The Child
by B.L.A. the Mouse
Summary: What happens when Andromeda gets a baby left on the doorstep?
1. Carmen

Summary: What happens when _Andromeda_ gets the proverbial baby left on the doorstep?

Codes: None

Disclaimer: Tribune owns all rights to _Andromeda_. All I did was borrow it for use in my twisted little tale.

Rating: PG

Spoilers: None

Setting: It diverges from the show between IP and TATEOTL.

Feedback: Please! I love praise and constructive criticism, but flames will be used for a light source during power failures.

Archive: Ask first and I'll probably say yes.

Author's Note: In order to give credit where credit is due, this was inspired, in part, by a scene from _Andromeda_ and two fanfics. The scene is from the beginning of "Dance of the Mayflies", where Rommie is helping the one, apparently alone child. Of the two fanfics, the first is Cassie Valentine's _Unexpected Joys_, an _Andromeda_ piece, and the second is J.A. Toner's _Fostering_, a _Star Trek: Voyager_ piece. I found these two extremely interesting, and they fueled the idea, to a degree. The rest of it was me operating on a couple quarts of Kool-Aid. 

Author's Note 2: This is my first stab writing in the third-person omniscient point of view, so it may be a tad awkward. If you have any suggestions as to how I can make it easier on myself and, by extension, you, please send them in, by all means!

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The Child

Chapter One: Carmen

By B.L.A. the Mouse

Nobody expected Carmen to arrive on that particular day. In point of fact, nobody expected anyone named Carmen to arrive on any day at all. That's probably part of the reason she did. 

One more thing to consider would be that one runs around the known worlds assisting people, one should expect the occasional backlash resulting from your gratitude. In other words, one should wait for your good deed to get punished. Unfortunately, nobody aboard did that. That's the rest of the reason.

In the crew's defense, it was an overall normal day, which would explain why nothing was anticipated. Dylan and Rommie were in his office, fine-tuning the final details of an agreement with the system they were in, over the comm. Beka and Tyr were trading barbs on the Command deck, Harper was playing with a new toy in one of the machine shops, and Trance was tending to her plants. As said, a regular day.

The first sign of anything unusual was Andromeda picking up an in-system distress signal. It was the usual "oh, crap, help me," message, audio only, a few hours old. The next was Beka announcing shipwide, "Okay, people, we just got a distress signal. You know the drill. Trance, Harper, both of you get to the hanger. The _Starlight_'s requesting medical and technical assistance. We'll be there in half an hour."

By the time they arrived at the location of the other ship, Trance, Harper, Dylan, and Tyr had assembled at the hanger bay, while Rommie readied Med deck. Beka, still in Command, authorized opening the hanger doors, and a small one- or two-man craft landed. It appeared to be in decent shape, except for a dent in the starboard side big enough to disrupt any systems running through that section.

The hatch opened and a ramp descended to the deck below. Smoke billowed out of the opening, thick and dark, heralding the exit of the ship's sole occupant. 

The woman was coughing heavily, probably from the smoke, and limping, favoring her left leg. When she looked up, they could see her face more clearly. She was young, early twenties easily, with a caramel complexion and hair streaked an improbable blond and black. It wasn't her looks that caught her attention, though; it was her extremely distended and very pregnant abdomen. "Hi," she gasped, in obvious pain, "I'm Carmen. My ship needs an engineer, and I need a doctor and a delivery room. Right now."


	2. Delivery

Author's Note: Glad you liked the first chapter. Thanks to all of you for reviews, and to Majik especially for the suggestion. Don't worry, all (or most, at least) will be revealed eventually.

****

The Child

Chapter Two: Delivery

By B.L.A. the Mouse

Trance recovered from the rather startling announcement first. "Okay, Harper will fix your ship, and Rommie and I will take care of you. Just lie down here," patting the gurney a 'droid had brought down, "and we'll take you to Med deck."

Mention of his name startled Harper back to reality. "Yeah, that's it. Do what Trance says, and I'll look after your ship."

Dylan shook off his remaining shock, sense of chivalry kicking in. He hurried over to Carmen to give her assistance. He was surprised to discover that, while the woman looked solidly built even aside from her stomach, she was quite light as she leaned on his arm. "I'm Captain Dylan Hunt, and you're aboard the _Andromeda Ascendant_. You may have heard of us?"

Carmen glanced up and smiled briefly as the pain from the last contraction abated. "Yeah. You're trying to restore the Commonwealth." She shrugged. "Least I picked a good system to be hit by an asteroid in."

"That would explain the dent." They had reached the gurney; he helped her up onto it. "Relax. You're in good hands."

"Isn't that what they always tell you?"

Trance took over as they left the hanger. "Now what exactly..." she started as her voice faded out.

Tyr walked over to Dylan, deciding to weigh in. His opinion was pretty much his usual, albeit for different reasons. "I don't trust her."

The captain was frankly incredulous. "Tyr, she's one woman who happens to be in labor. I don't think she's about to take over the ship." Privately, he thought Tyr may have finally cracked under the weight of his normal paranoia, but he wasn't about to say so.

"Not in her circumstances, sir. They appear to be quite genuine. There is something about her that does not lend her to being trustworthy." Now he knew he was pushing it, but that automatic distrust of certain individuals had served him well on occasion.

"Tyr Anasazi, I do believe you just professed to using intuition for something. Isn't that my job?"

"Perhaps."

Harper had been scrambling around in Carmen's ship for the last minute or two. Now he joined the other two men with a quick opinion. "It's shot, boss. Half the major systems are trashed and I don't know how many subsystems. We can fix her just enough to get Carmen to spacedock somewhere with more resources, but not much beyond that- we just don't have the parts. What did she _do_ to her ship?"

"She said something about an asteroid?" Dylan rubbed at the back of his neck, then dropped his hand back down to his side helplessly. "I have no idea beyond that."

"Whatever. It's going to take a couple of weeks to do that much, even with the brilliance and expertise of yours truly. And that's, shall we say, a hopeful guesstimate. Even if Carmen weren't..." he squirmed uncomfortably, "...she'd still be here for a while."

* * *

Up in Med deck, Carmen herself had been outfitted with a patient gown after being permitted a short- very short- shower by Trance, to clean off the smoke and soot residue. Her hair was now revealed as being a bad blond dye job- the earlier streaks had been grunge only. Most of them, anyway.

Beka had left the ship in autopilot and come down to Med deck to see who they had taken aboard. Now she sat with her, chatting between contractions and trying to get any useful information- full name, job, etc.- out of her, without much luck. Trance was taking care of the sprained ankle and Rommie was gathering instruments.

"So who's the father?" Beka asked, only partly as a conversational gambit. That bit of information could help discover who their uninvited guest was.

Carmen replied shortly, "Don't know. He's human, at least."

Beka's eyebrows shot up. Shed hoped that their guest was someone who had at least gotten a name before... well... anyway. "One night stand?"

"Something like that."

There was a brief silence in the room as she went through another contraction, the only sounds mechanical and the incidental noises caused by two people trying to take care of a patient. Carmen had refused the other woman's proffered hand and instead twisted the bed sheet in her hands to help diffuse the pain. It was quicker now, each wave only a minute or two apart. _Please God_, she thought, not quite a prayer, not exactly a curse, _just let me have the baby and get out of here!_ In her opinion, the crew of the _Andromeda_ was nice enough, but they were poking their noses too much into her business. She liked her privacy, and that did not include people asking about the kid she'd had the misfortune to get pregnant with. Unfortunately, even without hearing their engineer's report, she knew that she was stuck on this ship for at least a few more days than was comfortable.

Beka was back; she had left to check with Trance. "You've got about five minutes before you have to start pushing."

"Great," Carmen muttered, sinking against the backrest.

"We're going to have to set up a medical file for you," she continued. "It would help if we had your full name."

"I told you my name- Carmen."

She sighed. This woman was starting to frustrate her. "Fine." _New topic, new topic._ "What's your job? Do you have a boss that we need to notify about the fact that you're... um..."

"Having a baby? No." At least this question she could answer without revealing too much. "I'm self-employed. Courier, cargo, and passenger service." She stopped talking for another contraction.

As soon as it was over, Beka kept up the conversation, taking advantage of the small revelation. "Really? I used to captain a cargo ship. Pilot, too. Then, of course, I joined up with Dylan, so... Do you have a business partner or anything?"

"No. Just me and the _Starlight_."

"You should have more crew. It's easier to run the ship, and it's better in case something like this happens again."

"_This_ will never happen again."

Beka had to resist the urge to beat on something. "I meant just sick or injured."

"I've never been sick and I don't get injured."

"Oh-kay." She decided to let the topic drop for now. She noticed Trance and Rommie coming over. "Not to ruin your mood or anything, but I think you're up."

"Damn."

* * *

"It's a boy!" Trance announced, over the screaming baby. "Congratulations." She finished wrapping him in a small blanket, and Rommie took over taking care of Carmen. Trance attended to some of the details like weighing and measuring him; when she had finished, she carried him over to his mother. "Do you want to hold him?"

Carmen shook her head emphatically. "No."

"Why not?" Beka asked. "You're going to have to hold him eventually. Why not get the hang of it now?"

"Maybe I do have to hold it eventually, but I'm putting it off as long as possible." Catching the eyes of the other three, all with varying degrees of confusion and curiosity, she sighed and explained, "I never wanted to get pregnant in the first place. I was between runs so I picked some guy up at a drift bar, my contraceptive failed, end of story."

"How are you going to take care of him?" Trance wondered, frowning. The child had quieted as she held him, but now he fussed a little; she soothed him with ease. It had been quite a while since she'd helped with her own siblings, but it wasn't that hard to remember.

"I'll figure something out," Carmen said, dismissing the worry.

Of the other three, Rommie kept her silence. She'd noticed, while the other two didn't, that Carmen had referred to the child as "it", adding to the list of things that bothered her no end about the situation. She consulted her databanks about a few statistics- they didn't look good. A lot of unwanted children nowadays were sold into slavery, and those that didn't usually had emotional and drug problems if they didn't die young. She herself had once or twice caught herself regretting that Harper hadn't been able to give her the ability to have children, even if it was theoretically and practically impossible; here there was a mother who treated her baby like an insect she had happened to find aboard her ship. Stock animals were treated better than that! Rather than say something she shouldn't, she decided to try asking something none of the others in the room would be surprised at. "What are you going to name him?"

"I have no idea," Carmen shrugged.

Rommie left hearing range on the pretext of finding an instrument.


	3. Takeoff

Author's Note: Thanks, guys! I'm really enjoying the reviews; some of you seem to have pinned what's going to happen exactly, while the rest of your guesses… well, I'm wishing I'd come up with them myself! They're great! Unfortunately, due to circumstances and writer's block, the next chapter will be seriously delayed. I'm really sorry, but I promise it'll be a nice fat one just oozing with plot.

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The Child

Chapter Three: Takeoff

By B.L.A. the Mouse

A week later, Rommie stopped by the temporary quarters that Carmen had been given. She'd been checked out of Med deck only a few hours before and come here with the child. While she stayed in Med deck, under supervision, she'd relied on everyone else to take care of the baby, refusing to touch or handle him more than absolutely necessary. Rommie had been willing to bet that she wouldn't last fifteen minutes alone. Sure enough, there was crying coming from within the quarters, and she wasn't sure it was all the baby's.

When Rommie was granted admittance, she was startled to see that the infant was lying in the crib screaming while Carmen was sitting on the sofa staring vacantly at a flexi. "Carmen?"

"Yeah?" The woman looked up from the page, annoyed at the interruption but grateful that someone else with actual knowledge of anything about children had arrived.

"Um..." Rommie wasnt quite sure how to call attention to her dilemma. "Aren't you going to do something about the baby?"

"What can I do?" Carmen was royally ticked, and it wasn't even ship's afternoon yet. "I fed it, I changed it, and I've tried everything else. I think it's just doing that to annoy me."

Rommie considered a second, then stepped up to the crib and picked up the baby. If anything, it cried louder. Putting him at her shoulder, she tapped his back a few times. There was a loud burp that echoed through the room, and then silence descended.

Carmen stood and stretched. "Finally. What'd you do?"

"Burped him. Have you chosen a name yet?"

"No. How's my ship?"

"Still bad. Harper found all the parts you need for immediate repair, but he's only started working on it. Give him another week or two and it'll be good enough to fly." Rommie realized that she was still holding the baby and set him down carefully, trying not to jerk him. Her movements were reluctant, though; she'd gotten used to taking care of him, and even enjoyed it sometimes.

Carmen nodded, thinking about that, before she got an idea. "Can you take care of it for a few hours? I'll help your engineer with my ship in the meantime, and that should speed up the repairs." She was desperate to get away from the newborn. She didn't like it, she didn't want it, and she couldn't take care of it. Therefore, she would work on her ship instead, and let someone who actually _liked_ the thing tend to it.

Rommie considered. She was off-duty at the moment, so that wouldn't be a problem. She had wanted to spend more time with the baby, and she was being presented with an opportunity. "I think I can. I have four hours before I have duty, and Harper's working on your ship now. Does that work?"

"Yes. Four hours." Carmen sped out the door without a backward glance, sighing with relief as she cleared the door. "Free!"

* * *

"Carmen, babe, give us one more day and the _Starlight_ will be ready to go." Harper wiped his grease-covered hands on a rag, then passed it to Carmen. "I have gotta thank Rommie for taking care of the kid. I hate to say it, but repairs go much faster with someone who knows the terrain. Genius would have figured it out pretty fast, but knowing how this place is wired really sped things up." He straightened, offering a hand to her.

She took it and got to her feet. "So we work tomorrow and then I can go?"

"Well, you'll have to stop a drift or something for complete repairs, but shes ready to rumba long enough to get you there." He patted the hull of the ship. For all her damage, she was really a tight little cargo ship, with good parts and construction.

"All right." Carmen sighed with relief. She'd spent the last week working on the ship for a few hours a day with Harper, while someone, usually Rommie, took care of the baby. Overall, she much preferred the ship.

"Hey, I have one question." Harper had been curious about this ever since the "Mystery Woman," as Beka had dubbed her, had come aboard.

"Shoot."

"Are you Carmen Miranda or Carmen Sandiego?"

She stared at him a second, then a smile crept across her face. For all his quirky habits, Harper really did succeed sometimes at trying to be funny. He'd probably be the only one aboard who she'd regret leaving. "Nice one, Harper," she said, only partly kidding. She stowed the tools in the box. "I'm going to throw these onboard. Same time tomorrow?"

"Sure." Harper twirled a tool around his fingers before putting it back into his toolbelt and leaving. _Weird. Very weird. Cares more about her ship than her kid, I think._

Carmen relaxed as he went. Finally, five minutes without a squalling baby or a nosy chatterbox for a crewmember. Peace!

She knew the nickname that the first officer had come up with. She was actually rather proud of it; it meant that they had found out very little about her, exactly what she wanted to happen. Now all she had to do was keep it that way for twenty-four more hours and she was home free.

First thing she had to do was get her ship fixed. Second was to get her hair redyed. It was looking awful, since she hadn't bothered to go to a hairdressers in the past few months. She'd been too busy trying to build up enough cash on some runs that she could afford to take some time off to worry about a kid. The third thing she was planning on was going on a diet. She had gained so much weight while she was pregnant that it wasn't funny. Granted, the doctor she had talked to at one point had said that she was going to lose it in a couple of months, but that wasn't soon enough for her.

Now what to do with that... thing? She could hardly deal with it while she was working. How would it look to clients if she was running around with a screaming _infant_ attached to her hip? One that would get bigger and older until it became a snot-nosed kid that stuck its fingers into everything, got sick all the time, and would just be expensive and time-consuming?

She could put it in an orphanage, but that would involve questions. She was against slavery, and the thought of intentionally killing it or leaving it to die made her skin crawl. What else was there?

Then she knew.

* * *

The next day was Launch Day. Carmen and Harper had spent the morning fine-tuning the navigation systems. That afternoon, she moved everything from the temporary quarters aboard the _Andromeda_ to her own aboard the _Starlight_. Rommie had volunteered to take care of the child, realizing that it was her last chance to spend any time with him.

Carmen had packed everything of hers into a single bag, and was about to leave the quarters when Rommie stopped her. She sighed, impatient and annoyed, but waited for the point.

"I was wondering if you wanted help," the android said, surprised at her manner. She would have thought Carmen would appreciate the offer- her eagerness to get off the Commonwealth ship was evident. "Especially with some of the baby's things."

Carmen shook her head. "No, I'm good. In fact, after this trip, I don't think you have to stay. Thanks for all the help over the past couple weeks, though."

"You're very welcome. I enjoyed spending time with him. In fact, if we're in the same area, anytime soon, stop by and see us- both of you."

"Maybe I will."

The two women smiled, fleetingly, Rommie's an uncertain grin, Carmen's a slick quirk of the lips. It made an odd picture. The two stood, facing each other, unalike in looks but for the same skin tone and height, matching in uneasy cheer. One had a bag slung over her shoulder; one had a baby tucked into her arms. The effect was eerie, of a broken magical mirror.

The gaze held for a moment, they weighing each other and taking final measure. Then Carmen's fingers slipped on her bag, and as she fumbled with it the reverie was interrupted.

"So..." Rommie didnt quite know what to say. "Good luck."

"Thanks. You too." Carmen hesitated a second more, feeling as if she should say something else, but turned and walked out.

When she returned, no words were exchanged. Rommie slipped out, hoping the two would manage, while Carmen came in, rejoicing in the fact that she was finally going.

* * *

"You're clear to go," Dylan said over the comm, a few hours later. They'd stayed in the same system where they picked Carmen up, out of courtesy for her, and now were letting her off in the same one.

"Thanks." Carmen sounded genuinely cheerful over the departure. It was more than Rommie thought she would be, considering that she was now alone with a two-week-old.

Harper added, "Come and visit us sometime. Better yet, come and visit me. Ow!" Beka had whapped him on the back of the head for his comment. Rubbing the injured area, he corrected weakly, "Us."

Dylan, Rommie, Tyr, and Trance collectively rolled their eyes. Carmen chuckled lightly. "Maybe I will. Later, guys." She cut off the connection.

Andromeda flickered in. "The _Starlight_ is leaving the hanger. Shes-" The hologram paused, out of surprise and shock. "She left the baby on me!"

"What?" Beka asked, eyes wide.

"Hail her." Dylan gave the order automatically, without pausing. It took him a second to realize what exactly the AI had just said. "She abandoned it?"

Rommie ignored the question. "She's not responding."

"Tyr, one shot, non-vital area."

Before the Nietzschean could target, let alone get a shot off, the _Starlight_ and Carmen transited to slipstream. Beka kicked into pilot mode, and Harper scrambled off the platform while she started to power up slipstream. "Pursuing."

"No." Dylan stopped her. "We have plenty of time to find her later. For now, will someone please go take care of that baby? Make sure it's all right."

Rommie nodded and left, closely tailed by Harper and Trance.

Beka powered down the engines before she began to chew out Dylan. "Why shouldn't we go after her? She left her own baby here! We should-"

He cut her off. "I know. But right now someone needs to take care of that baby. Since she and her ship are probably registered with the FTA, we can find her later."

Beka bit her lip and subsided. Tyr watched in silence. Frankly, though he wouldn't admit it, he was on the captains side. He would place more importance on taking care of the child than finding the mother.

* * *

Rommie was beyond mad. Her stride toward Carmen's abandoned quarters was so fast that Harper and Trance lagged behind.

"Hey," Harper nudged his friend. "Is it just me, or is Rommie taking this personally?"

Trance looked ahead at the irate android, already disappearing around the next corner in the hallway. She'd seen Rommie taking care of the baby on occasion, and recognized now that the interaction she had seen involved a fiercely protective attitude towards him. "She's taking this _very_ personally."

"I wonder why?" Harper was legitimately blindsided. "It's not like it's hers, after all."

"Harper..." Trance realized that he had unwittingly hit on the crux of the problem. "I'll explain later."

Up ahead, Rommie heard the conversation and ignored it. She knew, in some far distant part of her circuitry, that she was acting like a maniac. That particular part wasn't in control at the moment, though. The part that did have control was first and foremost concerned with making sure that the baby was all right.

Arriving at the door to the quarters, she keyed the access code in and waited impatiently. She could already hear the infant's wailing. The other two caught up just as the door opened, Harper panting and Trance, while not tired, slightly fazed by the speed. The former cringed at the sound of the crying and hung back, hoping that distance would reduce the effectiveness of the sound; the latter followed Rommie in, despite a single wince. She'd come along to make sure that the baby was in good health. Granted, she'd looked at him only the day before, but who knew what Carmen might have done on her way out? Rommie didn't pay attention to either, instead going straight over to the crib.

After a quick glance at the baby, seeing that nothing was obviously wrong, she spotted a half-empty bottle sitting on a small table nearby. It told her all she needed to know. She lifted the baby carefully, making sure she grabbed a cloth as well, and followed the same procedure she'd shown Carmen only a week before. A few gentle pats later, she heard a loud belch, then silence. Careful repositioning ensured that he wasn't unduly disturbed as she cradled him with her arms. Turning to face the other two, she said, "Carmen forgot to burp him again. She's done that before."

Her explanation did nothing for Harper. He stared at her and the baby for a minute. He hadn't programmed her with childcare abilities, and while he realized that she could have just downloaded the information, it was surprising to see her using the information.

Trance nodded, vaguely. Her question hadn't yet been answered, but it was besides that. Possibilities were intertwining and diverging in her mind's eye, several of them, and two or three of them had equal merit. She would have to look at them more carefully and see what could happen. "How is he?"

Rommie did a quick check of his records and scanned him as best as she could for comparison. "No different than before."

"Good. I'll tell Dylan." She left. She had to report to Dylan, true, but she also had to go over divergences, and in a situation like this one that could take a while.

Harper had become somewhat less frozen, and now he turned to go. He stopped for one more comment, though. "Well, this answers one question."

"What?"

"She's not Carmen Miranda, she's Carmen Sandiego."


	4. Discussion

Author's Note: Here it is, as promised. I think I made Dylan out to be a bit of an idiot at points though. And the song "I Got You Babe" was sung by, and presumably belongs to, Sonny and Cher.

I have a general announcement here: this fall, starting with the next chapter or so, the individual chapters will be posted at a slower rate than usual. The whole less time to write thing, which equals less time to type, which pretty much means less stuff to post as quickly. I will try to get them up as soon as possible, but I will be needing more time per chapter. I'm sorry in advance for delays, but it's an inescapable hazard. Thanks for your patience and, as always, your taking the time to leave a review and let me know what you think.

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The Child

Chapter Four: Discussion

By B.L.A. the Mouse

Dylan called the entire crew together on Obs. Deck later that day, including their newest member. They arrived at various intervals over ten minutes. Dylan, obviously, was first, in a very contemplative mood as he leaned against the window railing. Considerations on tracking Carmen, continuing the mission, and taking care of an infant battled for focus in his mind, so occupying him that he never heard Trance enter.

The girl was equally distracted by her thoughts, but hers differed greatly in type. She was musing over the probabilities and diverging timelines, all having to do with what happened to the baby. In most, one of the crew took care of the child, whether or not they found Carmen- the majority of those would contribute to the "perfect possible future" that her younger self was so fixed on. In a very few, Carmen was persuaded to take him back; only one of those turned out well, with exacting circumstances. The one or two that they gave him away to someone else- orphanage, adoptive parent, and similar options- were too muddled to tell much, due to shifting realities. _How are we going to get this to work?_ she wondered, standing off to the side a few feet from Dylan.

Beka and Harper arrived next, debating loudly where Carmen would go first. Harper thought Berlin drift, in the next system over, while Beka was pretty sure she'd go one or two slipjumps farther away, like to Pavlov or Guatemala drifts, or maybe a couple planets over. They sat on the edge of one of the planters, still arguing.

Next to last was Tyr, brooding over the possibility of an infant on board. It would be a threat to security and efficiency, just for starters. One person would have to attend to it a good deal of the time, reducing manpower for vital functions. For purely personal reasons, he was disturbed by the thought. After having to leave Tamerlane with the Orca matriarch, even for protection and furthering his purposes, the situation struck him as skewed.

Rommie was the last to enter, carrying the baby. After a quick glance around, she crossed the room and sat next to Beka. With the exception of Trance, the crew watched her, or more accurately, the baby, intently; Trance was still absorbed in her thoughts.

With her arrival, the mood of the room changed. Dylan took notice, walking to the center of the room and clearing his throat. Nobody snapped to attention, but one by one they looked over at him. "I think you have some idea of why we're here," he began, looking around the room.

He was met with a chorus of nods and a couple of eyerolls. Harper said, "Uh, Boss? Duh."

Treating Harper to his best warning look, the captain continued. "I decided that everyone should weigh in on this, since it affects all of us, at least temporarily."

"Why temporarily?" Rommie was not happy with the sound of that.

Dylan sighed heavily. He hadn't wanted to have to go over that with her in front of the crew, knowing by now how fond she was of the baby, but apparently, he was going to have to. "We can't take care of him for any longer than a few months. This is a warship, not a nursery. We have to get him back to Carmen or find someone who can take care of him long-term, because we can't," he finished, hoping that she wouldn't take it up.

Tyr added, "We would always be one crew member short for anything. With only six crew, that's a survival hazard."

"Everything's survival to you, isn't it?" Beka remarked. He ignored her.

Harper asked, incredulously, "You want to take him back to Carmen? Are you forgetting that she's the one who abandoned him? She left! Vamoosed! Carmen is so far out of the picture that she's not even in the album, and you want to take him back to her?"

Beka glanced between him and Dylan. "That would cover it."

Dylan was amazed at the minor mutiny. "So its three-three for keeping him?" He couldn't quite believe it. He had expected Rommie to have a problem with giving him back, but hadn't thought that anyone else would. Beka had a very pragmatic view of things, and even Harper had his moments of logic; he had trusted that they would have the same opinion as he and Tyr.

"Make it four-two." Trance stepped forward and joined the crew, making it perfectly clear what her opinion was. "You really shouldn't take him back to Carmen."

He looked over them helplessly- Rommie, Beka, Harper, Trance, all arrayed against him. Crew versus conscience. "I'm sorry, I can't do that," he said finally. "She may have left, but we have to find her. We owe them that much."

"Oh, for..." Beka muttered. Everyone with the exception of Tyr had a similar statement, expressed in various ways.

"Until then, someone has to take care of him."

The room fell silent, with several glances exchanged between the crew, each look skittering off the answering one. No one volunteered, for whatever their reason. Beka, Harper- neither knew how to take care of much besides themselves and their ships. Dylan had no intention of doing it, and Tyr still felt that uneasy sense of injustice. Trance was unsure as to whether to volunteer any information, her gaze shifting from person to person.

Rommie waited, looking around, for a moment. She wanted to, but was unaccountably unnerved, having to swallow hard before speaking. "I'll do it," she offered, her voice sounding small to her own ears.

Five pairs of eyes swiveled around to look at her. That became six when the hologram joined the group. There was a pause before she said, "Are you sure? We aren't programmed for child care."

"I've already downloaded several texts available, and I don't know if anyone else has experience with taking care of children."

"I don't," Beka volunteered.

Harper chimed in, "Me, neither."

Tyr muttered something about little useful knowledge.

Dylan heard him and wondered briefly- after all, Tyr had been the one raised with children of all ages- but added, "None of us. Except... Trance?"

The girl started. She had been drifting between listening and her thoughts, but recovered quickly. "I have some."

"Trance does have that advantage," he began, glancing back at Rommie.

"No!" The brusque bark made several of the crew jump. Trance modulated her tone before continuing. "He's used to Rommie, not me, even this early. If you change caretakers now, he'll have to adjust all over again." She paused for a quick internal debate and decided. "Besides, he shouldn't stay with me. This never happened in my future, but giving him to me is a bad idea." Their faces were disbelieving. "Please, trust me. Let Rommie take care of him."

The divine decision. "All right. Rommie, you have care until we find Carmen. Each of us will be expected to lend assistance when it's needed and take care of him during Rommie's shifts. Understood?"

A chorus of yess and nods, same as earlier.

Dylan assessed them. "Good. Rommie, I'm giving you this week off until you're adjusted, then you're going to be back on light duty to see how it goes." He left after finishing the statement, Tyr only a few steps behind.

Rommie looked over at Trance. "Thank you."

"I just told him the truth. I _would_ be a bad choice. Even if I have some experience, you're the one-" She stopped. She wasn't sure whether she should say some of the things she knew, and settled for finishing with, "one who had the best advantage for taking care of him. You don't have to sleep!" That netted smiles from the other three, even though they were aware, to a degree, that that had been an evasion. "May I?" She held out her arms.

"Here." Rommie stood and placed the baby carefully in the alien girls arms. He had been dozing through the entire discussion, but the movement woke him. Instead of crying, he just opened his eyes and waved one arm at a dangling dreadlock.

Harper stood on his toes and looked over Beka's shoulder. "Is he supposed to look like that? He's not exactly good-looking."

"He does look weird," Beka agreed, standing next to Trance. She'd seen the baby right after he was born, but that had been then, and she had assumed he'd look normal by now. Putting a hand on Harper's head, she steered him to the side, opposite Trance in the small circle. "Here. Stop breathing down my neck."

Rommie gave her engineer a look that said, quite clearly, he was an idiot. "Yes, he's supposed to look like that."

"But he's a _conehead_!"

The three women exchanged a confused look that somehow went three ways. None of them knew the reference and by unspoken consent didn't ask. Instead, Beka changed the subject. "He's quiet. I thought babies cried all the time."

"Some babies are pretty quiet. He seems to be one of them."

"D'you mind if I try holding him?"

Trance handed him to her. "Careful, support his head."

"I'm not completely stupid about kids." Beka took him very carefully, positioning him like Trance and Rommie had. He was heavy, soft and warm, and instead of staying alert, like with Trance, he snuggled into her chest and his eyes drifted a little bit closed. "See? Not that hard. Believe it or not, I have held a baby before."

"I haven't," Harper said. At the looks the other three shot him, he asked, "What? You try growing up on Earth. For the first couple years, moms never let kids outta their sight, and you don't even think of picking one up unless you're really close family or friends."

Thinking of what she had seen while visiting the planet, Rommie could see the logic. It wasn't surprising in a society where starvation, disease, and slavery were rampant.

Beka inquired, "Do you want to try? They're not that easy to break."

"Ah, no. I think I'll pass." Harper looked antsy again, and he was. He'd never had much contact with pregnancy or kids younger than about five. "I've got something to work on. _Ciao_." He exited at top speed, before anyone could ask any more questions.

Another puzzled glance bounced between the other three. "It's Harper," Beka finally said, by way of explanation. "Hey, did Carmen ever get around to naming him? I mean, you can't exactly call him 'him' or 'you' the rest of the time he's here."

Rommie sighed, almost in defeat. "Beka, she never even acknowledged him as a human being. Whenever she was forced to notice him, she called him 'it.' Didn't you hear her on Med deck? If she doesn't even do that much, do you think she's going to bother with a name?"

The woman was surprised. "I didn't." As if the topic disturbed him, the baby made a gasping cry. "Um..."

"Probably hungry. Here." She took him back. "It's almost time for his next bottle, anyway," she added, leaving quickly, wanting to get him fed.

Beka watched her go. "How do you think she'll do?"

"I wouldn't have told Dylan to give him to her if she wasn't able to do it," Trance said quietly.

* * *

Rommie sat on a chair in her quarters. The baby was lying on his back on her lap. He had been awake for a while, and she'd already attended to his needs. Now all he wanted to do, apparently, was cry. "You're making a liar out of me," she commented, "and after I told Beka you were quiet."

No reaction. He didn't even vary his pitch.

"Okay, let's try something else." Rommie stood, cuddling the infant. She hadn't really thought reasoning with him would have much of an effect, but it had been worth a shot. A quick check of her database wasn't much help either. _Damn. No lullabies._

With impeccable timing, her alternate self flickered in. "And that is why you shouldn't have volunteered."

"I doubt the rest of the crew would do much better. We aren't exactly a ship of nursemaids." She gave the hologram an impatient glare. "And if you're going to be here, you may as well be helpful. See if you can find a lullaby or something in our database that I can use to keep him quiet."

Andromeda returned the expression with interest while she searched. "Nothing," she reported after a moment.

Rommie sighed, then started searching again, broadening her horizons this time. Then she found something; Harper had been singing it only a day or two ago, along with similar stuff from the same era. It was merely old-fashioned Earth pop, but it would work in a pinch. Keeping her voice low, she started, "'They say we're young, and we don't know, and won't find out until we grow...'"

The hologram winced. It wasn't that Rommie's singing voice was bad- in fact, it was rather good. It was that the song in question was not one of her favorites.

"'Well, I don't know if all that's true, but you've got me, and baby, I've got you.'"

"Would you please stop!" It was a clear command.

Rommie paused. "Why? It's working." That was the truth. The baby had ceased crying and stared up at her, expression only a degree short of positively amazed. She kept humming the tune, over Andromeda's protests, until she isolated and activated the program she wanted, and the security recording of Harper singing started playing, picking up where she left off.

After she set the still-silent baby back down in the crib, the android turned to face her hologram. "What did you mean when you said I shouldn't have volunteered?"

"Exactly what I said. Not only are you inexperienced with children, your emotions are engaged _again_, and that isn't good."

"There is nothing wrong with displaying emotions to a child," Rommie argued, knowing her main AI would probably ignore that point, however well supported. Her problem never seemed to be with emotion under the circumstances, but emotion in general. That division of viewpoint seemed to be the main point of difference between them.

"That's not what I mean and you know it."

The two glowered at each other for a moment, a clash of separate and identical personalities. Neither of them were entirely willing to concede that the other had a point. Rommie knew she shouldn't get too emotionally attached to the child, and Andromeda was well aware of the fact that some affection should be shown to the child. They had both reviewed the two texts that Carmen had brought on board when it became apparent that the child was staying for a few weeks at least. They had also gone over the ones that had been brought back from the planet visit Beka'd been sent on, in order to get supplies for the infant. Too bad they hadn't thought to get a book of lullabies on that one.

"Privacy mode," Rommie ordered, and felt a curious ripple of satisfaction as the hologram frowned and disappeared. It was then that she realized the recording had ended and the baby was still quiet. A quick check revealed that he was asleep again. "That was effective."

* * *

Dylan pressed the door chime, realizing too late that he probably shouldn't have done that. The door opened, with no sign that he had disturbed the baby.

"Come in," Rommie said, from somewhere beyond view from the door. He stepped in and glanced around.

He hadn't been in her quarters much, and not at all since Carmen took off. They were the standard senior officer's quarters that all the crew had, one by one, moved into, with a bedroom, bath, and main room. Unlike the others, though, with personal touches determined by the person, hers had looked almost sterile, with nothing to break up the military-issue look of the room. As far as he knew, she didn't use the bedroom except for storing items and clothes, and the bathroom for cleaning her synthetic epidermis on the rare occasions that she had somehow gotten dirt or grease on it. Now, a corner of the main room had evidently been converted to use for the baby. The crib had been taken from Med bay; hed never been quite sure why they had one, but now was extremely glad they did. A few feet away, there stood a wide chest of drawers, with a flat top at about waist height. Rommie stood beside it, folding thick rectangles and pieces of cloth onto one end.

"Dylan!" She stopped folding the diapers and stepped over. She had only seen him in passing in the last week, since she'd spent most of her time in her quarters with the baby and not been on duty.

He didn't quite know where to start. He should have been to talk to her sooner, but through some quirk of fate hed been legitimately busy. "Um... where's the baby?"

"He's asleep," she said simply. "In the crib, of course."

"All right. Where'd you get the furniture?"

"Oh, this?" She indicated the dresser. It now doubled as a changing table- not its original purpose, but effective as of three weeks before. "I found it in the storage bay. It's interesting what variety of things you can find there."

"But why do we have it in the first place?"

"It was a gift from the craftsmen on Atlas Prime, remember? Four months ago."

"Ah. Right," he said, even though he barely remembered that particular planet. "What's the fabric for?"

Rommie looked at him like he was an imbecile. She didn't do it often, but once in a while it was an apt description, like when he asked a completely obvious question. "Blankets, baby clothes, and diapers. Beka bought some when she went on the supplies run, remember?" Carmen had gotten very few things before the baby was born, and they had needed some things that she had forgotten or neglected.

"That many?" It was a surprisingly tall stack.

"Yes."

He decided to take her word for it.

She turned back to what she was doing. She wanted to get this out of the way before Trance took over for her shift. "I don't think you came down just to ask what these were for," giving him an opening.

Dylan paused, knowing that she would not appreciate most of what he was about to say. "Rommie, we contacted the nearest FTA registry. There are almost three hundred ships registered as the _Starlight_, but none of them have captains or crew that answer to Carmen's description."

She started to breathe a sigh of relief. She realized by now that she didn't want to find Carmen, and was actually glad that they hadn't, at least not yet. His next sentence punctured her hopes quickly.

"That doesn't list every single ship, however. We could find her another way. Everyone leaves some kind of trail that we can follow." He saw her shoulders slump and felt like a galaxy-class heel. He stepped up beside her and laid a hand on her shoulder. "I know you want him to stay onboard, but we can't take care of him here. We don't have equipment, big enough quarters, any sort of caretakers on a permanent basis- we can't do it."

"Why not? We can buy what we need. These quarters could be usable- or we could connect them with another." She had already thought of some of the more salient points. "As for getting people to take care of him, theres usually at least one crewmember off-duty. Trance is willing to help."

"What about Tyr? And Harper, and Beka? Not everyone is able or willing to help, and you may not be available every hour of the day," he argued, following her as she left the fabric pile. "What about during battles? We need all hands on Command deck. And we have a diplomatic function with the Perseids in less than a month. If we can't find Carmen by then, we're going to have to pull someone from the crew for the express purpose of looking after him. It depletes resources no matter what."

"We need more crew anyway!" Rommie picked up a fallen bottle and set it on the dresser, trying not to let her personal opinions get the best of her.

"But-"

He was interrupted by the start of a wail. The baby had woken up. "He's early," Rommie muttered. "Can you mix the formula? Everything's on the table there."

"Okay..." Dylan stared at the things on the small end table. Everything was there, from bottles to hot water in a thermal container. The only thing that was missing was instructions. He started sorting through the rows of objects in an attempt to find something resembling directions.

Rommie picked up the baby, now starting to turn red in the face. "Hey, stop crying, you're all right, you'll be fed soon." She kept murmuring things in that vein as she changed his diaper and rewrapped the small blanket around him, even as he kept on screaming. "How's the formula coming?"

"Not very well." Dylan had finally located the directions- finding them, obviously, on the label of the formula container- and succeeded in pouring a few drops of hot water right on the back of his hand. "Ouch!"

She gave him an amused look. "Here, take him and I'll get it." She carefully set the baby in Dylan's arms; while she trusted him with a lot of things, she knew he hadn't gotten near one in 304 years- give or take a few hundred.

Equally carefully, he propped the baby up against his chest and talked over the cries. "Rommie, you're getting too attached to him. We can't keep him onboard, and you'll only hurt yourself if you get too fond of him." He watched her face as she tested the temperature of the formula.

"It's ready," she finally said, her face a complete mask. "If you'll give him back, I'll feed him now."

It was against all protocol and chains of command, but he obeyed the order written clearly in her eyes. Dylan handed back the infant and started moving toward the door. "You have the next duty shift, remember."

"I know. Trance is going to take him then."

Rommie didn't look at him as he left the room. Offering the bottle to the baby, she ignored the single hot teardrop that splashed onto his blanket.


	5. Babysitting

Author's Note: Jeez, it's been how long since I've updated? Two months? Gack! Too long! I'm seriously sorry about the delay, but I finally got enough time to write, type, and post this chapter. The next one should be coming along more quickly than this one did, since I've already got most of it written.

I noticed that readership on FFN has dropped off since they passed the edict about NC-17 fic. I appreciate any of you taking the time to read this and leave a review, especially now. Thanks.

And as for the legalities… The song used in this chapter is "What the World Needs Now is Love," as sung by Jackie Deshannon.

****

The Child

Chapter Five: Baby-sitting

By B.L.A. the Mouse

Tyr glanced up as Rommie rushed onto Command deck. "You're late," he drawled, glancing over her rather disheveled outfit. It was the one she had worn the day before, to be precise.

She caught the look. "The baby was up most of the night. I didn't have time to change before duty."

He raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. In the five weeks since Carmen had left, several things had changed aboard, and one of them was punctuality. Whereas Rommie had been on time more than anyone else- Dylan included- now she was late an even half the time. If the crewmember who was supposed to take over was late, if the child was fussing, if anything happened at all, she was delayed. Tyr supposed he should be grateful that no one had decided to attack them lately.

Rommie knew him well enough that she recognized his silence as damning. It had not been her fault that Beka was late, and she could hardly leave the baby alone. "Dylan wants to see you. You'd better go to his office," she said, grateful for the excuse to get rid of him.

"And he told you this when you were rushing to get here on time?"

"He stopped me on the way up."

Tyr regarded her a moment longer before leaving Command, and she breathed a short sigh of relief that he was gone. He had an attitude at the most inconvenient times.

* * *

"Ah, Tyr. Please, sit." Dylan greeted as his office door opened.

The Nietzschean didn't disregard the statement. Instead, he glanced at the chair impassively and remained standing just inside the room. "What did you want me for?"

Dylan stood. May as well be on equal footing with him, considering his request. "You are aware of the meeting with the Perseids and Castalians in a few days?"

"The ship has only talked about one other thing."

"Yeah, about that... Theres a problem," the captain continued. "Beka and Trance sent a message back that theyve been delayed for another week. Rommie and I are needed to help with the diplomats. The Perseids like Harper, so that counts him in. Unfortunately, that leaves no one to take care of the baby, and as the Castalians aren't overly fond of Nietzscheans, that means-"

"That you want me to baby-sit," Tyr finished flatly.

"Essentially."

"No."

* * *

Rommie moved purposefully around the room, babe in arms. "...He'll need feeding approximately every four hours. I think that's it. Anything else?"

"No." The very disgruntled Nietzschean stood in the center of the room and glared, mostly in general or at Rommie, but occasionally at the baby as well. The latter stared back in wide-eyed amazement at the stranger, a contrast to the familiar faces of Rommie, Beka, Trance, and Dylan. "I can't believe I let the good captain talk me into this."

"Look on the bright side. When you rebuild Kodiak pride, you'll know how to take care of all the children."

The glare intensified. "That's what _he_ said."

"Oh-kay, never mind then." _I am not going to touch that one._ "You've got everything. I'm not sure how long the meetings will be, but if it's longer than a few hours I'll call to check." She touched the baby's hand lightly, then straightened her uniform and headed out the door.

Tyr scrutinized the child. The child scrutinized Tyr. The gazes were both suspicious and measuring. Finally, the baby finished his examination of the person holding him, extended one arm and batted at a braid. The Nietzschean blinked and frowned down at him, who managed to wrap his hand around a braid and pull. Tyr added a raised eyebrow to the mix and growled lightly.

Normally, that would have been more than enough to scare an adult, with the exception of the most hardened people and Dylan. This kid, though- less than two months and five kilos- just pulled harder.

To his own surprise, Tyr smiled. "You're not lacking in boldness," he said musingly, "but you need to work on judgment."

The baby returned a toothless grin and cooed, not relinquishing his hold on Tyr's hair. The Nietzschean sat down carefully on the nearby sofa, trying not to shift the infant too much. He felt that he should be saying something, but he wasn't sure what, and he doubted that Nietzsche or Machiavelli would be appropriate for a six-week-old. Finally, he settled on subject matter of a sort. "My son," he started, "was born a few months before you."

He paused and looked at the child, who appeared absorbed, staring at Tyr. "My wife named him Tamerlane, after an old Earth conqueror. It was an appropriate choice. Because of him I could have taken over a pride."

Tyr continued, telling about his own child, only making sure that nothing he said would make the ship suspicious if it listened in. As he spoke, he pondered the similarity of complexions. In his study of the baby only a few moments before, he'd noticed the dark coloring- black hair, deep brown eyes, skin appearing heavily tanned. He had noted the similarity between holding this child and his own; now as he thought, he realized that those same hues resembled Carmen, of course, but also Rommie.

* * *

Rommie checked the time. She, Dylan, and Harper had been talking to their allies for two hours now, and still weren't finished. Every new topic seemed to bring every dissident on the council out of the woodwork. She threw a quick glance over to Dylan- he caught her eyes and nodded. They'd arranged beforehand that she could leave for a moment and call up to _Andromeda_ after a few hours.

As soon as she had slid out the door, ignoring strange looks from uninformed diplomats, she activated her comm. "Andromeda, patch me through to Tyr."

"Youre not even going to say hello?" the AI groused, but put her on.

"How is he?"

Tyr answered, sounding somewhat off-center, "He's fine. And before you ask, he's asleep."

"Good." Rommie smiled in amusement at the anticipation of her question. "I meant to tell you before I left, but I got distracted. If you have some real problems with him, activate program BL, subdirectory three, four, or five. One of them usually calms him down."

She could almost hear the puzzlement in his voice, not at all concealed. "You're not going to tell me what those are, are you?"

"No." For some reason, she took great satisfaction in saying that.

Tyr, exasperated, sighed heavily. "Get back up here. I am not a baby-sitter."

"But Tyr, don't you want to bond with him?" Laughing at the grumbling she heard over the line, she cut it off. She still had a slight smile playing over her face when she went back into the conference room. She _did_ like baiting Tyr on occasion.

Besides, however much she liked the baby, she still appreciated the occasional break. Asides from that though, by now she wanted to get back to the ship. The politicians were getting on her nerves, for one. For another, she didn't trust Tyr any farther than she could throw him, and even given that distance she was a little leery.

* * *

Tyr stared at the page. It was going on four hours and he was getting bored. The child had been asleep most of the time, so he was reduced to reading and not much else. He sighed out of sheer frustration and continued, wishing that something distracting would happen.

Not for long, though. Only a moment later, a rising wail emanated from the crib in the corner. He marveled at the combination of the appropriateness of the timing and the fact that he really should be more careful as to what he wished for as he got up to take care of the baby.

* * *

Two and a half hours later, he was almost forced to concede defeat. He'd tried feeding, changing, rocking, and pretty much everything he knew of, had seen the mothers in his pride doing, or even heard of in the most tenuous connection, in some cases repeatedly.

Finally, he decided to go to his last line of defense. "Andromeda, run program BL, subdirectory three."

He wasn't sure what he expected, but it wasn't a slightly mocking voice saying, "Are you sure?"

"Quite sure," he said over the cries, getting annoyed. "Are you actually going to play it, or are you going to debate? Personally, I would prefer the first option."

"Of course."

He could hear the smirk in her voice. A moment later, soft, almost too-sickly-sweet strains of music filled the room, followed shortly by a feminine voice in the same style, just loud enough to be heard. "What the world needs now is love, sweet love..."

Tyr grimaced. The baby, on the other hand, lessened his decibel level perceptibly.

"It's the only thing that there's just too little of," the singer crooned.

The child was almost silent by now, the volume of the song being lowered accordingly. After thinking about it for a moment, Tyr realized that the song was probably furnished by Harper- who else? "So the boy has proved his worth once again," he muttered darkly.

But couldn't he have chosen a better song?

* * *

Rommie fidgeted impatiently. They had finally concluded the discussion after five hours straight, and now the closing ceremonies were dragging on for an hour so far.

She wanted to get back to the _Andromeda_. This was the longest period she had been away from the baby since he had come under her care, and she was worried, especially given the caretaker for today.

Whenever Dylan glanced over, he could see her tension, and he couldn't blame her. The ceremonies were long and dull no matter what, and he knew that she would be jumpy about the baby. While he didn't encourage concern for him beyond his general health and happiness, even that would account for Rommie getting unnerved.

It took another half hour, almost two total hours of ceremonies, before everything finally ended and the diplomats started leaving. The captain wove his way through the crowd to Rommie. "Ready to go home?"

"More than ready." She was, too. Had been for the last few hours. "Let's just find Harper and go."

* * *

Tyr heard the door whirr open, but discounted it without even looking up. No heartbeat, familiar tread- it was Rommie. Speaking softly, trying not to wake the child he held, he advised, "Be careful. He's been awake for almost three hours, he just fell asleep."

"How was he?" She walked over and stood facing him, looking down at the baby. The latter had that sweet-and-innocent look. Tyr, on the other hand, looked very tense and dangerous.

"Compared to some adults I'm familiar with, he was easy to handle."

Rommie held her arms out and Tyr passed over the baby. The infant started to fuss, but she gave him a finger to hold; he took it and drifted off again. She went over to the bed and gently set him in it, trying very hard not to jar him.

She stared at him a moment longer, examining him visually and with her sensors. It didn't hurt to check, after all. She almost forgot Tyr was in the room, she was so absorbed, until he came up behind her and muttered, "Am I to assume you're pleased that I didn't accidentally kill him?"

She whirled around, startled. Her reflexes were fast- he glanced down to see her hand hovering above his solar plexus by only a bare few millimeters. "Sorry," she said, not particularly remorseful.

"I'm sure." Nonetheless, he backed off. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, but a ticked warship was worse.

Rommie glanced back at the slumbering baby, then faced the Nietzschean, now standing about ten paces away. She caught his intent, studying gaze before it reverted to his bored mask. Straightening her back, she folded her arms and ordered, "Tell me."

While the order was hardly clear, Tyr did get the general idea. "You're familiar with the species my pride is named for." Despite the flat tone, it was a question, plain and simple.

It took her a minute to find it, buried as it was in the back of her database. Even then, it was only there as a reference point for Nietzschean pride names, along with Orca and Jaguar and such. "_Ursus arctas._ Kodiak bear, also known as brown or grizzly. Native to the North American section of Earth's surface, died out during the Second Industrial Revolution. Omnivore that grew to sizes of-"

"I see you understand the reference," he interrupted smoothly. Miffed, she glared at him, but listened anyway as he continued, curious as to the point of this. He didn't change his expression, but was amused at the intentness that she was paying to this. "One of the more renowned traits of the Kodiak, along with strength and power, was the mother's protectiveness of her young. If there was any tampering by another creature, of the same or different species, she would attack and allow her cubs to get to safety, usually killing or severely injuring her opponent." He paused for full effect. "Your behavior regarding this child is similar."

She realized that he was finished, and asked perfunctorily, "Are you done?"

Tyr smiled, that disarming grin that tended to make anyone nearby very, very nervous, especially the one it was aimed at. Naturally, it had absolutely no effect on Rommie. "Not quite."

When she made no response, he went on. "I was wondering why you have not named the child yet."

Rommie opened her mouth, then closed it again. It hadn't actually occurred to her.

"My suggestion would be to do it. He needs a name. And don't," he anticipated any protest, "say that it wouldn't be right for you to name him. It is a parent's job to ensure that the child has an appropriate one." He softened, just a little, as he said, "Freya named our son before I even knew that he was in existence."

"But I'm not his parent." The protest slid from her lips before she knew she was going to say it. Something about associating with Tyr always made her argumentative nature kick in, but this time she hadn't meant to say anything. She didn't make any attempt to retract the statement however, too busy berating herself for lack of control.

He shook his head, almost laughing. "Ship, haven't you heard a word Ive said?"

Tyr left before she could reply, leaving her standing in the middle of the room with her mouth open. She thought about what the point of those entire speeches were, eyes widening as it clicked.


	6. Nomenclature

Author's Note: Yes, I said I'd get it up earlier. Yes, I deserve every bit of abuse you guys could give me. Can I just blame this one on Real Life and let it go at that?

Rainbowscape, thank you so, so much for that review. I am extremely grateful. The rest of you, please comment, even if it's to point out a niggling little typo in paragraph ten or something. I appreciate all the feedback I can get, as long as it isn't a flame. ::g::

****

The Child

Chapter Six: Nomenclature

By B.L.A. the Mouse

Beka had no sooner walked inside the door to Rommie's quarters when she was accosted by an avatar bearing a flexi. She took it cautiously. "Ah, something I should know?"

"It's not information, I need an opinion." Rommie fell into parade rest.

Beka was more than a little confused by the contents. "Uh, names?"

"Yes."

"Why?

"Something Tyr said."

"Okay..." Forget confused, Beka was downright bewildered. "Can we start over again? From the beginning?"

"Oh." Now that she stopped to consider the conversation, she realized that it seemed a little cryptic. "I'm sorry, Ive been thinking about this for the past several days. I didn't realize how odd it may seem."

"Yeah. Um, so what's this about?" She glanced back down. There were columns of names, meanings, and places of origin, all neatly catalogued alphabetically. Somehow, it seemed typical of Rommie to set it up like that.

"It was something Tyr said while he was taking care of the baby. He indicated that he thought he needed a name soon, and that he thought I should be the one to give it to him."

Beka frowned. "Tyr? Are we talking about the same Nietzschean? Big? Chip on his shoulder? Heavy weaponry?"

"Yes, that Tyr." She smiled in response. "He does have his moments."

"Yeah, but I thought he already used up his gesture of the month when he baby-sat. Why would he say that?"

"You know about as much as I do. I went through my database after he left and compiled lists of probable names. I even checked for appropriate meanings."

Beka nodded, listening abstractly, as she skimmed some of the list. Then her eyes widened. "Rommie, did you check for possibility of mispronunciation? I can't even _say_ this one!"

Rommie started to answer, then stopped and thought. "Actually, I didn't."

"Cut them down to the human ones, then I'll help."

"I think I can get that done this shift."

"Good." Beka smiled. "Now go!"

* * *

It was one of those few occasions when, through fluke or design, the crew ate together. Tonight's dinner had been very carefully engineered by Rommie, aided and abetted by Beka and her own reluctant mainframe.

When Rommie came onto Mess deck, Harper, Beka, and Trance were already there. Harper jumped when she came in, startled and still discomfited by the presence of the baby she was carrying. A smile spread across Trance's face, amused at Harper's reaction and the infant.

Beka rolled her eyes at the engineer and ruffled his hair lightly, ignoring his protests. "I got Tyr to attend," she reported. "He should be here pretty quick."

Trance chimed in. "Dylan's going to be here, too. He agreed after I convinced him it was a crew activity."

"Thanks." Rommie grinned at both of them as she set the bag she carried on a chair, extremely grateful for their efforts. "But how'd you get Tyr to come?"

"I could make a few guesses," Harper piped up, and then added, still piqued about the ruffling, "like maybe she offered to mph mmmm!"

The last two noises were not an intended part of the statement, only said because Beka had muffled him with an extremely effective hand over his mouth. No one knew quite what he had planned to say, but it threatened to be very incriminating and/or embarrassing judging by her reaction. When she finally released him, it was because he was turning red in the face and starting to wriggle away. He dusted himself off and assumed a mantel of injured dignity. "Hey, don't damage the merchandise, wouldja?"

Beka ignored him. "I just told him to meet me here now and we'd eat. I didnt say anything about the rest of the crew." She grinned wickedly.

She got a similar response from the rest of the assembled as the door swished open to admit Dylan. "What's so funny?" he asked, perplexed. "Or do I really want to know?"

Beka waved, dismissing the question. "Nothing. Did you see Tyr on your way here?"

She had barely finished when he sauntered in. Mildly startled, he glanced at the crew, then threw a curious gaze at Beka.

She shrugged, communicating wordlessly. He turned to Trance. "I'm assuming you organized this, yes?" Despite the fact that she was no longer the ditzy purple girl, her enjoyment of parties had not lessened, merely matured.

Trance corrected, "I was just told to meet everybody here and tell Dylan. Rommie's the one who put this together."

The Nietzschean turned his puzzlement toward Rommie. "Since you are the organizer of this... event... _why_ are we all here? Including the child?"

She paused, trying to decide how best to phrase it, and finally said simply, "Because he's no longer 'the child.' His name is Asher Darrell."

To say that a portion of the crew was startled would be an understatement. Beka wasn't, of course, having been in on it from the beginning, and Trance had her usual air of imperturbability, but the male contingent was struck rather dumb. Tyr regarded her with a bemused expression, Dylan wanted to say something but wasn't quite sure what, and Harper just stared, mind going blank.

Tyr was the first of the three to say something. "You decided to name him." He smiled faintly. "It is an adequate name."

High praise coming from Tyr. "Thank you _so_ much."

Dylan finally got his vocal cords to work. "Asher Darrell," he repeated. "I don't think you should have been the one to name him, but it's a good name."

"Thank you." This time the statement was sincere, though there was a trace of recrimination in those dark eyes that looked at him. "Some of the credit goes to Beka. She helped me choose it."

"Excellent job to both of you then."

Harper was the only one, asides from Trance, who hadn't commented. No one was surprised that Trance was silent, her new incarnation being more restrained, but it was rather surprising that Harper was. The golden girl nudged him with her elbow, making him jump again, before he said anything else. "Oh, uh, yeah, I guess that sounds really, um, really good."

"Real articulate, Seamus," Beka muttered.

"Hey, you try getting hit with that right outa left field!"

"I already did."

He scowled.

Perturbed about the undertone of dissent, no matter how playful, Dylan cleared his throat. "Since we're all here, and it is, after all, around the time most of us would normally eat, why don't we do just that?"

Every human, Nietzschean, and alien girl agreed with that. Rommie, though she technically didn't need to eat, got a cup of coffee for her recycling systems to work on so as not to be left out.

Soon she found herself sandwiched, baby on her lap, between Trance and Dylan, with the other three lined up on the opposite side of the table. Before long, Beka and Dylan were hotly debating the trustworthiness of the next planet on their agenda, with Tyr supporting Beka's side and Harper, Trance, and Rommie adding the occasional remark. Dylan, naturally, was for trusting them, but the more contemporary crewmembers disagreed.

Right in the middle of one of Tyr's sentences, he was dramatically interrupted by a rising wail. Everyone froze except for Rommie, who reached into the bag that had been relocated to the floor and pulled out a bottle. Within moments, the crying had ceased, to be replaced by various slurps and gulps, but the crew stayed silent. She looked up to discover the group staring at her. "What's wrong?"

Dylan smiled, a forced, lopsided smile, and just said, "Nothing. I was just wondering whether he was going to do that again."

"Probably not. Usually Asher just eats and goes back to sleep."

"Well, then, Tyr, I believe you can continue. I want to know what you were saying before... Asher... interrupted."

She seriously doubted it. His face and biosigns had shown a very different statement from what he had said, and the use of the baby's name was extremely uncomfortable. But what choice did she have? She couldn't turn around and accuse her captain of lying, when he really may have just been startled, and the name could take some getting used to. So she accepted it, superficially at least.

Dylan went on with the debate, but his mind was preoccupied with Rommie and Asher. In his opinion, she was getting too used to the baby, too fond of him. It had not been the sight of her feeding the baby that had convinced him; he had seen that too often to be fazed. It was noting the ease with which she did it. Rommie had seemed _maternal_, and that spooked him.

In his mind, still determined by Commonwealth and military protocol despite the years in this new universe, there were a few things that did not belong on a warship, and one of those things was a family. It seemed strange that on the flagship of the New Commonwealth, one of the most military ships around, crew notwithstanding, seemed to have a small family developing onboard. Not the inter-crew family that one expected, but an almost-nuclear unit of parent and child that was definitely not the norm.

There was also the fact that they had yet to find Carmen, and he wanted to give her the opportunity to have her child back. It rubbed him wrong that she wouldn't want to have the baby- Asher. He had to forcibly remind himself that the infant had a name now.

And that was another thing. While Dylan knew that logistically the child had to be called something, it seemed somehow odd that Rommie would have been the one to give it to him. Basic Commonwealth protocol dictated that the ships AI was just that- an AI. Not a parent, or spouse, or lover. The official limit was friend, even after the androids apparently became common during the Fall. Of course, he was aware that some AIs did become personally involved with their crew, but that always brought uncomfortable thoughts of the _Pax Magellanic_ and Warrick to mind. But Rommie naming him... that had always struck Dylan as the parent's responsibility. And thinking of Rommie as a parent, well...

It just didn't sit right.

He was jerked from his thoughts by a wave of laughter. Beka, seeing his vagueness, laughed again. "What's the matter, Dylan? Need some extra sleep in your old age? You're not paying any attention." So he was only a little more than ten years older; the three hundred years had to count for something, and an easy target was an easy target.

"Very funny, Beka." He tossed a wadded-up napkin at her. She deflected it easily, still grinning, and it landed in Tyr's lap. Tyr just frowned at all of them and threw it back onto the table.

Dylan glanced around the table, noticing that everyone except he and Asher looked wide-awake, the latter sound asleep and snoring softly. "Now that you mention it, it is getting late. And it looks like he could go to bed, while you're at it," accompanied by a nod at Asher. "Beka, you have Command next." He ignored the pout.

* * *

After Dylan left, the group started to break up until finally Harper and Rommie, complete with Asher, were the only ones left. Just as Rommie stood and reached for the bag, the engineer swooped in to get it instead. "Here, Rom-doll, let me."

"All right," she acquiesced, amused and a little bewildered by the sudden behavioral change- he'd been a little standoffish ever since she had taken over care of the baby. She led the way to her quarters.

Harper kept up a steady patter the entire way there about some upgrades he was making to the internal defense system. When they reached her door, he paused awkwardly, then it all came out in a rush. "I was wondering about Asher. I mean, Carmen left weeks ago, and we still have him, and I think that we're probably going to have him a lot longer, and-"

"Harper." Rommie stemmed the flow of speech with that one word, knowing that he babbled when he was anxious. "What is it you want to know?"

He regarded her unusually solemnly before saying, "I'm just wondering what's gonna happen if we can't find Carmen."

She considered very carefully. "It depends on what Dylan says about keeping him aboard. If not, then we find someone who can take care of him."

"And if we can?"

"Then I take care of him." The contemplative Harper returned, and she avoided his gaze, making an unnecessary adjustment to Ashers shirt. She added, hearing the defensive tone in her voice and hating it, "Hell need someone to anyway."

_What happened to you, Rommie? A year ago you would never have thought about taking care of a kid_, Harper thought, looking at her as she focused on Asher. _Then you were Wonder Woman. Now you're Martha Kent. How'd I miss it?_ He would never say that to her, but he wondered. After a second, he realized that he was letting the conversation get way too serious. "Hey, one other thing. How hard is it to hold one of them?"

"One of... you mean a baby?" Rommie smiled. "No. Why? Do you want to try?"

He said cautiously, "Yeah. All right, I'll try." He felt a little better having actually committed to it. "It can't be worse than trying to keep us from being eaten by a giant space creature or something, can it?" Then he thought about it and went from cocky to nervous. "Uh, can it? I've- I've never held one before."

"In that case, you'd better come in." She led him inside and over to the sofa. "Sit."

He sat, dropping the bag next to him. "So how do I do this?"

"First, relax."

"I am relaxed!"

"All right, now hold your arms like I'm holding mine."

"Um..."

"No, a little closer to your body. Not that tight! Down a little further."

"Uh, Rommie?"

"Oh, here." One-handed, she arranged his arms. "Now be very careful."

Harper screwed one eye shut and left the other open as little as necessary to see as she set Asher in his arms. She wished she could close her own, but was torn between that and the desire to take the baby back.

The first few seconds went without incident. Then Asher, asleep up till then, started squirming and making low gasping cries, precursor to a full-out scream. Harper tensed up worse than before; if he wasn't used to babies at all, upset ones were an utterly foreign concept. "Rommie? Help? Please?" In a misguided but perfectly understandable attempt to rectify the situation, he lifted the baby up by the armpits as he broke into a very loud, very upset wail, but before Rommie could get to him, something minorly catastrophic happened.

Asher threw up over Harper's shirt.

"Ugh! Rommie!" Harper held the now-squalling infant aloft, somehow managing to project disgust, desperation, and downright terror all at once.

She took the baby back, effectively rescuing both of the helpless males. "Put your shirt in the bathroom. There's probably something that'll fit you in the bedroom."

Harper disappeared into the bedroom as she tried to get Asher changed and calmed down. It took ages before she was able to do that, and her engineer still hadn't reappeared. She set the baby in the crib and went looking.

When she went in after him, he was standing in front of the wardrobe, still shirtless. "Rommie!" he said, jumping in surprise.

"Relax, I'm not here to ogle you. What was holding you up?"

He glanced at her, checking to see if she'd brought the baby- getting vomited on tends to make one nervous- and flung open the doors. "Let's see, I have a choice between the low-cut vest or the V-neck uniform. Which do you think would look better on me?"

"Point taken, though I think the blue dress would look good with your coloring." She grinned at his horrified expression. "You're right, there's nothing here you can wear. Can you stand being half-naked long enough to get to your quarters?"

"For you, I could stand being completely naked." It was his turn to grin at her visible disapproval. Then he turned mournful. "But that was my favorite shirt!"

"Harper, to go by what you say, they're all your favorite shirts. Don't worry, I'll throw it in the ships laundry with everything else that's been affected."

"All right. How's the kid?"

"Asleep. In bed. Which is where you should be."

"But I wouldn't fit in his crib!" he quipped, enjoying the death glare she shot at him.

"Now, Harper."

"Going." He darted forward to give her a wet, noisy kiss on the cheek, then bolted out of her quarters before she could do anything to him. Rommie just laughed in spite of herself.

Harper skidded around the corner and smacked straight into a very solid object. Next thing he knew, he was sitting on the floor with Tyr looming over him. "You should watch where you're going, boy."

The boy stuck his tongue out. Tyr sighed and extended a hand to help him up, noting something odd about his appearance. "Harper, where is your shirt?"

"Rommie's quarters."

Tyr frowned.

Harper caught the look and hastened to explain. "She had me take it off, I left it in her bathroom."

His look darkened.

"I would have put on something else, but there was nothing in her quarters that would fit."

Tyr looked positively annoyed at the confusion.

"See, I couldn't wear it after Asher puked on it, so-"

"Oh," Tyr said, his expression lightening. "Why were you in her quarters in the first place?"

"I walked back with her. I needed to talk to her about some modifications." Harper started to walk away, but Tyr paced him, not done with his questioning. He had already put in his two thrones about the improvements, so that wasn't it. It was something else entirely.

"Tell me," he requested quietly, "what is your opinion on her care of the child?"

"She's good. She's been keeping up with duty shifts, taking care of the baby- hell, she's even been managing to make nice with the chinheads and the fishmen! She's better at it than I could be. I mean, look." He gestured to his bare chest.

"It's not hard to." Tyr grinned at the glare the boy shot him. "She does seem to be doing a decent job of it."

"Decent? She's freakin' unbelievable! There has to be something about not having to sleep."

"Indeed." Tyr regarded Harper a moment longer before splitting off down a side corridor. He'd been walking the decks for quite a while tonight, pacing something out. From the crewmembers he'd talked to, he'd gathered that everyone, including himself, believed that Rommie was being an excellent parental figure, as well as officer and AI. He'd seen for himself that she was protective of the infant, and taking better care of him than his natural mother, who had after all abandoned him. The ship and crew had survived over a month of regular duty and a diplomatic function without incident. If conditions continued like this, even through a battle, then he had no problem with the child staying onboard as long as necessary.

Now all they had to do was convince Dylan that that was the case; he was still set on finding Carmen.


	7. Shock

Author's Note: Many thanks to Rainbowscape and EyeCandy. You guys are great!

EyeCandy, yes, the full name has significance. No, you didn't miss that episode. Trust me, I'll explain eventually.

I have a mass appeal going here; I need to know if anyone has recorded the episode "A Heart For Falsehood Framed." If you do, please email me at . I need it for reference for a piece I'm planning, and I've had no luck.

****

The Child

Chapter Seven: Shock

By B.L.A. the Mouse

Dylan did a double take when Rommie walked onto Command deck. He expected her to be there for her shift, of course; he just didn't expect her to bring along bag and baggage. "Uh, Rommie," he asked, laughing uncomfortably and briefly, "may I ask why you brought Asher on-shift? I thought Trance was supposed to take him today."

"She was." Rommie stepped up to a console and set down the bag she was carrying. It was perhaps the least startling thing she had along, as she always took it whenever she left her quarters with Asher. "Harper wasn't feeling well, so she's down on Med deck with him. Everyone else can't, for whatever reasons."

He nodded, not sure what to say. "Ah. What's that thing you're carrying him in?"

"What, Dylan, you've never seen a baby carrier? I found a design and had one of my bots make it up. It's very effective." She glanced down at the backpack-like creation strapped to her chest. The baby was snuggled inside, napping. "He should be fine for a while."

Dylan looked at her, measuring, before silently going back to work. Of all the things that had changed since Carmen had left, almost two months now, Rommie hadn't strolled onto Command deck carrying Asher. Not until today, anyway. It didn't help that what he didn't want on a warship was crew having to concern themselves with a child when they were supposed to be on duty. "Since you're here, I'm going off-shift. Let me know if anything comes up."

It was his usual speech, and Rommie barely acknowledged it. As soon as he had left, she smiled to herself. No matter what happened, Dylan could be depended on to be Dylan, and that included being discomfited or fazed by anything non-military or unusual.

* * *

He was meandering along the way, but Dylan's ultimate destination was his basketball hoop. Practicing rebounds had always been a good way for him think about things, and he needed that result right now.

Tyr walked behind him for several moments before being noticed. Dylan actually jumped when he said, "I'm assuming that you have a moment to spare?"

"Tyr!" he exclaimed, a bit embarrassed by his reaction. "What is it?"

"Andromeda." The two men fell into step beside each other.

"Andromeda?"

"And Asher."

"What about them?" Dylan asked, expecting Tyr to launch into a diatribe about the way the baby was endangering the survival to the ship, and maybe supported by a speech about how as an android, Rommie shouldn't be given the responsibility of a parent or guardian. Quite frankly, he would have been ready to have someone to commiserate with.

Tyr weighed his words before he spoke. Not unusual at any point, but this time it was because he was still in mild doubt as to the wisdom of his opinion. "I believe that you should consider letting the child stay onboard."

The captain stopped short. It took him a few tries to get his next sentences out. "You- uh- I- Let me get this straight. When Carmen left, you thought we should return Asher to her, or find someone else, not on board this ship, to take care of him. Correct?" No reaction. "Now you're saying that we should keep him onboard." He got a single taciturn nod. "Would you mind explaining how you made the jump?"

Again Tyr chose his words carefully. "If you have spent any time observing Andromeda with the child, her manner is indicative of how she thinks of him. When-"

Dylan cut him off, starting to walk again. "So I'm not the only one seeing it then. She's becoming too attached to him. She volunteered to take care of him, she named him..." He trailed off as he quickly became aware of Tyr standing several steps behind him, looking impatient. "What?"

"I believe that we may be able to accommodate a child onboard for a longer period." His anticipation of the captain's reaction wasnt far off as Dylan stared and began to rant.

"Has this crew gone _insane_? This is a _warship_, not a nursery! We aren't _equipped_ to handle childcare! What happens the first time we go on a dangerous mission? Or when we get shot at? All the attitude and ability in the world won't help if we need all hands on deck for a battle, we can't just leave the baby somewhere while we fight! The Cetus, Acheron, the Magog battles- we couldn't have handled any of them with a baby onboard!"

Tyr took advantage of the break for breath. "We are due the first group of graduates from the Mobius military academy, yes? We will also be receiving more non-military crew, including medical staff. Put in a request for a specialist or caretaker of some kind who could take the child when Andromeda is unable. That should solve most of the obstacles immediately apparent."

Dylan proceeded to do something very undignified- he sputtered. "But- but-"

"Captain, adaptability is a very important survival trait," the Nietzschean advised, even as he grinned at the reaction.

The grin got him a dirty look and an imminent scathing remark when alarms when off all over the ship. "Everyone report to Command," Rommies voice echoed, "weve got a distress call from Pavlov Drift."

* * *

Two hours later Dylan stared at the image of the wreck of the drift. Explosions could be seen, still, all along the hulking shell that remained.

Some terroristic madman had flown into it like the Restors had with the _Yeketrina_. Everything at the point of impact had been immediately incinerated, exploded, or otherwise destroyed. The rest had experienced a spreading chain reaction. The only survivors were those that had managed to get to their ships and get away within a couple of minutes, and of them, many were injured and their ships damaged.

For all their speed in arrival, the _Andromeda_ crew was unable to offer more than token assistance and medical treatment. Smoking ships landed in the hanger bays and docked, while the crews from them supported their limping fellows, carried the stretchers, and made the dying comfortable.

When a last blast sent pieces of wreckage spinning off in every direction, Dylan stepped down from the console he was standing at. "Tyr, you've got command. I'm going down to Med deck." The Nietzschean didn't even look up, too busy coordinating the ships still capable of flight.

There was a long line in the corridor outside. Beka was going through, evaluating the cases and sending the critical in to Trance and Rommie, who treated as many as they could in an air of controlled chaos. Harper had long since been dispatched to his quarters with Asher, over his protests.

Currently the android and the alien were working together on a heavily bleeding man, taking no notice of Dylan except to ascertain that he wasn't another wounded person. He passed them, not even speaking, to one of the numerous pallets on the floor. Another man lay there, with numerous cuts and heavy burns. Holo-Andromeda appeared next to him. "Burns, lacerations, and inhalation of deadly gasses. We can't do anything."

The captain kneeled down next to him as he convulsed in an agonized cough. A few feet away, a 'droid began zipping a woman's body into a bag. He waited until the spasms subsided before speaking. "I'm Captain Hunt." The hologram looked on in silence.

"Joel." The voice was little more than a raspy whisper laced with pain, but he spoke anyway.

"What ship are you from? Who's your captain? We'll need to inform them that you're here."

"You mean that I'm dying." His glassy eyes rested on the captain. "The _Starlight_. Carmen Lark."

Dylans breath caught. If it was the same person... It was a massive coincidence, but if they found her, their search was over. "Do you know where she is?"

"Won't do a damned bit of good." Joel's words provoked another fit, coughing up something solid and bloody. After a minute, he wheezed, and managed, "Dead." He lifted a shaking hand and brushed ineffectually at the thin line of blood trickling from his nose. Dylan noticed the drops of red at the corner of his mouth with alarm as he began to speak again. "She was on the drift when... I was... a bar..." He coughed again. "Made it to a ship. Barely. She was in... damage heaviest there. Gotta be-" The man stopped talking- too much effort- as the blood increased from a few drops to a flow. His breathing got worse, and he took Dylan's hand in a frantically tight grip before it ceased altogether.

The captain eased the now-limp fingers out of his. "Andromeda," he said quietly to the hologram, still hovering next to him, "record death and bring another bag." He stood up and walked to the next person, assimilating what he'd just been told.

* * *

"Carmen's dead?" Rommie asked incredulously, coming around to Dylan's side of the desk. "When? How do you know?"

"I'm surprised your mainframe hasn't told you yet."

"I haven't had a chance," the indignant hologram said, flickering in.

Dylan silenced that particular version with a stern look, ignoring the miffed expression as she blinked back out. "One of the men who died. Apparently she'd just hired him as crew."

"You're sure?"

"I checked with every authority possible, now that I have a full name. Carmen Lark, aged twenty-two, registered owner and operator of the _Starlight_. Her ship was found partly destroyed in the wreckage of the drift. She answers the description. She wasn't among the survivors reported. The only thing I can come up with is that she died in the attack."

She sank down onto the edge of the edge, staring disbelievingly at him. "She's really gone?"

Dylan stood and put a comforting hand on her shoulder, despite the fact that it wasn't doing much good. "It's ironic, isn't it? We finally find her and she dies at the same time."

Rommie straightened, taking a deep breath. She was almost scared to ask the next question, but she had to. "So what happens to Asher now?"

He considered very carefully. The question had been plaguing him since they'd taken the child onboard. "Keep in mind that this isn't permanent, but I think for the time being he can stay with you."

"Dylan?" She couldn't believe that those words had just come out of her captain's mouth.

"I said that this is only for the foreseeable future," he cautioned. "If we run into any major problems, we'll have to find somewhere else for him. But we really have no other immediate option, and you seem to be coping fairly well. Besides, you have the crew behind you."

She looked straight at him, knowing that it was only most of the crew. "Except for you and my main AI."

"Well, yes. We have our misgivings."

Rommie nodded absently, mulling it over. "So Asher will stay with me?"

"Yes."

Dylan watched as a slow, uncertain smile spread across her face, unsteady as anything and almost preparing to have something said that would demolish it. Finally, she said, "I'm going... back to my quarters." She paused as she reached the door and turned back to him. "Thank you."

He stared at the door that she had left through for several minutes, hoping to the Divine that he had made the right decision.

* * *

"Take a break," Tyr advised quietly as Beka took yet another punch at the bag. He walked over and started unwrapping her hands. "Your heart is racing."

"Yeah, well..." She blew her hair out of her face. When that didn't work, she pushed it back with the hand he wasn't holding. "Did you hear? Dylan officially announced that we can keep Asher onboard. I guess he's Asher Darrell Ascendant now. Or maybe Hunt. Which do you think?"

"I hadn't heard conclusively." He continued unwrapping, switching to the other hand. "Then I am to assume that we will be regularly drafted for childcare services?"

She scowled. "Spoilsport." It was for show, though; only a second later she smiled. "Someone told me that a certain Nietzschean's opinion tipped the balance."

Tyr glanced at her face, keeping his own totally impassive. "It's fascinating what you hear sometimes through rumor."

"Like the one about someone stealing Drago Museveni's remains from the Drago-Katsov?" It was his turn to scowl, but she laughed, making him seriously reconsider how dangerous he actually looked. _First Asher, now Beka..._ Her attention had moved on, though. "Are you trying to tell me that you just don't want anyone to know that you have a soft spot for the kid?"

He growled, this time actually joking. "I can arrange a much harder training session if you have this much breath left to talk." He finished unwrapping.

"No thanks. And I'm not talking, just informing you of pertinent ship's events and things that might concern you. So what did you tell Dylan?"

"The truth. I believe we have the capability to care for the child," he admitted.

"See, that didnt hurt at all." She grinned and crossed her arms. "So what last name d'you think hell get?"

"Ascendant. And don't relax too much, you still have to do weights."


	8. FastForward

Author's Note: Rainbowscape, gav, Gray Bard- thanks for the reviews. I appreciate them so much!

Incidentally- in this chapter and later ones, Asher's speech has been translated from "toddler" to "legible."

****

The Child

Chapter Eight: Fast-Forward

By B.L.A. the Mouse

Rommie walked away from Command, nodding to various crewmen as they passed. There weren't many; having a couple of hundred people on board was different from the bustling of the corridors before the Long Night, but still, it meant better maintenance of the ship and an easier time on the crew than when they had had only six or seven. Even the small number they had had only been there for the past two months or so.

It was fairly early in the evening, especially since she had gotten off her shift early, but she went straight to the VIP quarters she stayed in. She'd moved everything there after finding out that Asher would be staying with her, since they were bigger, with an extra room for attaches, assistants, and similar ilk that had proven to be useful. 

The door slid open, and she stepped inside to see Alexandra Jenkins squatting on the floor next to the toddler, helping him stack blocks. Jenkins was a lieutenant in rank, but primarily she took care of Asher during duty shifts and the like. Now she looked up in surprise, black hair swishing around her face and nearly obscuring her vision altogether, as the door slid open. "Andromeda! I thought your shift lasted for another hour."

"So did I. Since we aren't doing anything in particular, though, Captain Hunt let me off early today." She looked down as Asher got to his feet and made his way over. He was still a little awkward walking, but when he got up a good speed he steadied somewhat. Today he decided to walk. "Hi, Ash!"

"Up," he said, holding his arms up above his head.

She grinned and picked him up, letting him wrap his arms around her neck. "So what did you do today?" she asked, addressing both of them.

Asher announced, "Fun!" and squirmed until she let him down and he went back to his blocks.

Jenkins had let Asher get in his announcement, waiting until he finished to speak. "He was great. He didn't eat much lunch, though, so he may be hungry."

"All right. Lieutenant, consider yourself officially off-duty for the night."

"Thanks." She had started to move toward the door when Rommie stopped her.

"For the last time, call me Rommie. Andromeda's my mainframe."

"Have a nice night then, Rommie. And Asher, too." She was still working on getting the abbreviation down, even after being onboard for a few months.

When the officer disappeared out the door, Rommie turned to look at the boy sitting on the floor. He glanced up at her, wondering what was going to happen now, when she did. After a moment, when he didn't look away, she asked, "Are you hungry?"

*****

As usual, dinner was a minor event. It wasn't that Asher was disagreeable. In fact, he was perfectly agreeable usually, it just took him a while to be coaxed away from whatever he was doing. Today that wasn't even needed, but it still took a while. First he had to find and take along a toy- a teddy bear that he usually carried, christened "Blob" for no other reason than that was what Asher had called it the first time he saw it and it stuck. It lived up to its name, being fat but fairly loosely stuffed, so that when set down it formed a blob of fabric. Second she had to find a pair of shoes to put on him, which took a while, especially the finding part. All told, it was a full half-hour before they left.

When they arrived on Mess Deck, she looked around for someone they could join, or at least an open table. Unfortunately, many crewmembers were starting to come off their shifts, so the room was packed. None of the senior staff or crewmembers she knew well were there yet. "All right, Asher," she said, yielding to the insistent tugging on her hand. "I'll look for a place after we get food."

That was another process that took a few minutes, as he couldn't quite decide what he wanted. She was still searching when, with a little prompting, he settled on milk and fruit. 

"Rommie!" It was Lieutenant Jenkins, waving from halfway across the room and apparently standing on a chair to be seen as she did. Satisfied that she had gotten the android's attention, she beckoned, adding, "Come over! We have room!"

Rommie smiled and nodded to indicate that the message had been received and started to make their way over, grinning as she watched the officer hop down off the chair, nearly taking down a passer-by. 

There was only one chair at the table, so Rommie improvised, sitting down and putting Asher on her lap. He squirmed a little, but quickly settled down to the serious business of eating. She glanced around the table, he gaze resting on Jenkins, a few seats away. "Thank you, Lieutenant."

"Alex," she corrected. "We're off-duty. And," she gestured around the table, "you will not call everyone by rank. I know you have our first names stored somewhere in your database, and I respectfully request that you use them."

Rommie grinned at that and at the murmurs of assent around the table. While Jenkins was the unintentional speaker for the group, simply because she knew the other two the best, the others were not without voice either. The sole Perseid proved that when it piped up, "You can't think we'd let the two of you wander around the Mess Deck until Asher was starving. I welcome the chance to observe human children's eating habits."

A significant, amused glance was exchanged by all seated, somehow missing the Perseid. Rommie checked her database, finding that she was right on target with the guess of medical track. In fact, most of the crew at the table were medical, and all but two had science in general. They were a mix of human, Inaran, Perseid, and two Nietzschean males- the non-medical crew- that were from Sabra-Jaguar pride. They were fairly young. If there was one thing the old crew couldn't get used to, it was the relative youth of the new, all recruits who had signed up in a fiery fit of desire to make a change in the universe. 

"Exactly how old is he?" asked one of the Inaran women. 

Overhearing the question, Asher interrupted himself long enough to grin and hold up a single finger. The answering smiles from some of the others prompted a giggle. 

"Eighteen months in a week," Rommie clarified, smiling herself. He had learned that trick ages ago and loved the response from it. Almost everyone that fell victim to it thought it was cute. 

One of the Nietzscheans spoke up. "He's an admirable child."

"Thank you." High praise from a Nietzschean. She decided to change the subject. "I don't think I've had the luxury to talk to many of you yet. What do you think of your duty so far?"

This, of course, prompted a chorus of responses, everything from expressed awe at machinery to complaints about junior officers' quarters size.

"The models in the academy were never this good."

"The gym is extensive."

"I have to share a bathroom!"

"The equipment on Med deck is great."

"_Someone else_ uses _my bathroom_!"

In fact, the chorus went on for so long that Asher was finishing the last few bites of his food and toying with Blob. Rommie realized how long they had been sitting there when he abandoned both pursuits and started trying to stand on her lap. Thwarted, he tried to do other equally distracting things like fiddle with her zipper and tie her hair in knots. Finally, he looked up at her reproachfully and whined, "Rommie!"

After taking care of Asher for this long, she was very familiar with the routine. She had about two minutes until he got very, very upset. 

Jenkins noticed it too. Having had a bit of the same experience, she did her best to fend it off. "C'mere, Ash."

"No!" He sat down firmly on Rommie's lap, set his chin, and his lip started to tremble. 

She looked down at him, then around the table. "I think I should go. Usually we leave fairly soon after he finishes eating." She let him slide off her lap, then caught his shoulder before he could make an escape attempt. "Thank you, Alex. And everyone else, of course."

An ensign nodded. "Anytime."

"Rom-_mie_!" Asher was no longer on the verge of a temper tantrum, but he was pretty impatient. "Go!"

"Coming," she replied as they headed for the door, hearing a new conversation start up behind them.

*****

Rommie checked the video feed from Asher's room, making sure he was asleep before fully relaxing. He was a good kid, but he had a tendency to take up a lot of time, between eating and dressing and playing and reading. She hadn't quite expected the time he would take up back when he was a baby, when he did everything on a schedule. He still had his days arranged like that, but somehow over the past year and a half it had expanded to fill an entire day instead of an hour or two.

The duty schedule, at least, was arranged so she could be here at night and as much as possible during the day. Back when one of the crew, usually Dylan, had arranged it, it was almost always set up that way. Now it was done automatically, but something in the system kept it to her own original schedule. 

She turned her mind to their itinerary of recruitment. The next system they were going to be in was Bard, with four planets, two settled by humans. Some wag, inspired by the name of the system, had dubbed the habitable planets "Comedy" and "Poetry," while the unsettled ones were "History" and "Tragedy." She rather admired the humor in it. 

The president of the system had asked to speak with Dylan. At the same time, he'd made an odd request for a politico, wanting to know if they could "bring that boy I've seen on the news reports. Only for a few hours- we need to impress upon the population that the Commonwealth has a side that is people-oriented, as well as military."

Dylan had considered the request reasonable and told Rommie to work it out. He would go, of course, and a couple of security officers to be safe. Trance would be along as well- since Beka and Tyr were on a mission elsewhere, she was the only one available. They were meeting the president on the capital planet, Poetry, third out.

And on that note… it was supposed to be spring there. Rommie still had to check on weather conditions for Asher, and sort out things they'd need while they were there, and… ah, the joys of going planetside!


	9. Planetside

Author's Note: Thanks, Rainbowscape! As for the rest of you… Please let me know what you think. Do you love it, hate it, think I should stick to reading kids bedtime stories…? I like hearing your opinions.

****

The Child

Chapter Nine: Planetside

By B.L.A. the Mouse

"Come on, Ash, you have to put on a shirt," Rommie said, a little amused but mostly exasperated. She'd spent the last half hour trying to persuade him to put on pants, and they left for the planet in an hour.

He was being stubborn and sat down, crossing his arms to prevent her from putting the shirt on. Instead she seized the advantage and got his shoes on. "Just put your shirt on and we can get breakfast."

"No!"

"No shirt, no breakfast."

"No!" She had put him in a quandary. He wanted food, but he really didn't want the shirt. He was so focused on the problem that she managed to get the shirt halfway on before he realized it. When he did, she just slid the shirt the rest of the way on when he was preoccupied with screaming, and started leading him out the door.

"Now we can go to breakfast."

He pouted, but let it go. Then he thought of something else. "'Lex?" he asked hopefully, as they started down the corridor.

"No, she's not going to be here today, remember?" Rommie slowed as he did, ignoring the curious crewmen who were obviously rubbernecking. "Today we're going down to the planet. Tomorrow you'll be with Alex again. Remember?"

Asher frowned, staring into the middle distance and trying to recall that particular detail. Almost unconsciously, he sped up again. Rather than interrupt him and risk another upset, Rommie walked with him and steered him out of the way of traffic as they went.

* * *

As soon as they stepped onto the surface of Poetry, Asher, Dylan, and one of the two security officers started coughing and sneezing. One security guard was a Nietzschean, so he wasn't majorly affected; Rommie was an android; and Trance was, well... her physiology apparently wasn't interrupted in the least. The reactions weren't surprising, though, as Rommie noticed that the dust stirred up by the _Maru'_s landing was around five hundred parts per million. "Trance," Dylan managed, "would your home planet be very dusty, so you've adapted to that?" He wouldn't be surprised if that were the case.

"Just a little," Trance said brightly, "but the sunsets are even better because of it."

The captain rolled his eyes a little- or tried to, anyway. He didn't do it for the very simple reason that his eyes were watering badly as they stepped off the dirt-and-gravel landing pad onto rich grass laced with bleached-white stone walkways.

The president, Roden Stanlor, was there to greet them, flanked by his own security guards, at least one reporter, and a small flock of various attendants and attendees. "Welcome!" he smiled benevolently. "I apologize for the dust, it's been a very dry year. Please," he gestured a valet carrying handkerchiefs forward. Dylan and the security officer took them, and Rommie snagged one for Asher, who was by now looking very distressed. He'd grown up in the filtered air of _Andromeda_, and really wasn't used to planetary conditions. "Welcome," he repeated, "to Bard Three, or Poetry as we call it. It's such a short distance to the state buildings that I thought we could walk there. If any of you have problems or," now his dazzling smile redirected at Asher, "your legs are too short, please inform Tam here, my assistant, and we'll get you a conveyance." Clapping a hand on the valets back, he turned and started to walk, obviously expecting everyone to follow.

"Well," Dylan said slowly as they started to move, "he seems all right."

"He's friendly enough," Rommie agreed, equally hesitant. He was certainly affable, if seeming a bit vacant, and he was nice enough toward Asher. Most diplomats that they had met with treated the boy clinging to her hand like some sort of maggot.

The group funneled onto one of the paths, three persons wide and smooth enough to run no risk of tripping over a badly placed tile. "Trance, what do you think?"

"He's a good person," she answered, with that faint mystical air.

Up at the head of the party, they could hear Stanlor shouting things back to them. "If you want to take a break from the negotiations, there's a beautiful park just across the street from the main building. Feel free to duck out for a moment, especially with the little one; I've ordered my guards to let you pass without incident. We'll be there in a couple of minutes, and then we can get down to some serious talking!"

Quite literally, they were there in less than five minutes. The room they were ushered into in the main building was fairly small and surprisingly neutral, with a single conference table and chairs. Dylan noted with amusement that one chair had been removed and replaced with a colorful high chair, toys strewn over the table in front of it. He was grateful; since they'd requested bringing Asher along during the negotiations, they'd provided something for him to do as well. Rommie was prepared with some of his normal toys, including Blob- she was good with things like that- but it was easier if they had some new ones to fascinate him with. She saw the arrangement as well, lifting Asher into it as the assemblage sat down. He immediately seized on a miniature model of a hovercraft they'd seen and started playing.

The president resumed speaking, his attendants silently lining the walls. "I asked you here, obviously, to talk about the Bard system joining the Commonwealth. The Commonwealth could help improve our lives, and I believe we could help the Commonwealth. Are you getting all this, Rob?" he asked one of the people at the side. Rob nodded, not even stopping taking notes.

"I'm sorry if we seem presumptuous, President, but how can this system help the Commonwealth?" Dylan questioned. He didn't know of any major good or exports the system had; it was the typical, bland government made by people managing to earn a living. As for the president, he was nice, but ditzy, and he didn't quite trust a system that chose someone this odd as its leader and crème de la crème.

"Simple, my good captain!" Stanlor beamed. "We have materials that can be used for ships and weapons on Tragedy and History. Also, our population is rife with directionless young people that can serve as soldiers."

"Ah."

"Yes, indeed! I've been thinking about this since you first appeared in the news reports, and after the Commonwealth got a firm foothold in the galaxies I decided to risk it.

"Being a peace-loving people, we won't start any wars, so you don't need to worry about that. We will not hesitate, however, to defend ourselves and our allies as quickly and efficiently as possible."

Dylan started to say something as Stanlor took a breath, but the president inhaled and rolled right over him. "Now I realize that we have certain details to hammer out before Bard signs onto the charter, but we can have a friendly drink first, can't we? Please, tell me your poison of choice, and we'll ensure that we get it." The last statement was directed to the attendants, more of a general hint than an order, but they snapped to attention and two started moving around the table, getting into a position to serve. "Captain Hunt, you first. I think you'd be the type to appreciate some nicely aged brandy, or maybe scotch. Yes, that will do."

The assistant by Dylan merely lifted his eyebrow. The captain nodded, and not even a full minute later, a glass of scotch and ice was placed next to him on the table. He took a tentative sip and discovered that it lived up to its advertising.

"Trance Gemini- I believe you would prefer a fruit punch? We have an excellent one here, completely tropical, with fruit from Infinity Atoll. Our chefs concocted it, and it's truly good." Trance had watched Dylan, and now followed his example, with similar results. "And Andromeda, water, with some milk for Asher? The officers- tea, I believe, we have a wonderful selection. And I will have some wine, thank you. Help yourselves, people." Finally the president sat down for the first time yet, accepting a glass of a deep red shade of wine.

Trance observed that he and Harper would either get along famously or drive each other crazy. Rommie was just glad that he had recognized that the best thing for Asher would have been milk, and that he had avoided problems by getting everyone some drinks, including her, with the option of refusing- although, with his attention span, she was sure that he hadn't even noticed that option. What was amazing was that he had accurately pegged everyone's most likely choice. He was definitely a good people person.

Stanlor glance around the table, still smiling vacantly and benevolently. "Isn't this marvelous? You should stay for lunch, and maybe dinner. The state dinners here are really something, believe you me!"

* * *

Asher was occupied for quite a while with the toys and the glass of milk, but it was inevitable that sooner or later he would start to wriggle and demand to get down and out. And when he did, Rommie was very, very grateful. The president was charming and amusing, but a littlesuffocating. She made an excuse, or tried to anyway, before being dragged out, but Stanlor dismissed it.

"Oh, please, go out. Young legs need exercise. And didn't I tell you about the park across the street?" He turned to Dylan. "Now what were we discussing? Ah, yes, the local government!" He dived into the topic with glee, missing entirely the looks of pained tolerance and the envious ones aimed at Rommie and Asher, even from his own staff; in short, everyone but him.

The guards stationed along the corridors gave them only cursory glances and let them pass. Stanlor had, indeed, forewarned them. One, a young woman eager to please, went to the lengths of escorting them across the admittedly busy thoroughfare.

And thus they found themselves in the park.

It was everything Stanlor had promised. The trees and bushes were a vibrant green and the flowers multicolored and cheerfully blooming in the bright sunlight. The grass actually felt soft and springy underfoot, the same brilliant shade of jewel green as the rest of the flora. Benches were scattered about tastefully, both in shade and in sun, and a few fountains, different ones for watching, drinking from, and splashing in, were arranged in prime positions. Farther off there was at least one playground area- they could hear children yelling even at this distance away.

Both of them stood and stared for a minute, drinking in the sights. It had been a few months since either of them had set foot on a planet; Asher had been on one maybe five or six times in his whole life. Rommie had often thought that hed grow up to be like Beka, preferring ships over terra firma. She looked down at him now as his eyes widened. Then he figured out that there was enough room for him to run without bumping into people or equipment and took off, clutching Blob.

Rommie smiled and started jogging after him. He let out a shriek of pure delight when he realized she was following him and sped up as much as he could. The run was mostly in a straight line- he was used to ship's decks, after all- but once in a while he swerved, a couple of times nearly into a tree.

Eventually the inevitable happened after a long chase and he tripped over his own two feet, landing facedown in the grass. In the few seconds till she reached him, he started crying into the dirt. He rolled over and pushed himself up, tears streaking slowly down his face. "Hurts!" he wailed, not letting up on the sobs.

"Where?" When she got no answer, she pointed to his knee. "Here?" He shook his head and she repeated the process over again, everywhere she could think of. Finally, stumped, she asked, "Where, then?"

He pointed to his toe. "Hurts!" That said, he flung himself at her, still crying.

"Shall I call for a medic, or will he heal from the grievous injury on his own?"

Rommie glanced up at the unexpected voice. The sun was behind the speaker, obscuring her vision, but after a moment her sensors adjusted. It was a man, fully mature but still young, she guessed about thirty, with sandy hair and pale skin. She hadn't even noticed him coming up until hed spoken. "I think he'll survive." She stood, picking up Asher and Blob, as his arms were still wrapped around her neck. He peeked out from the joint of shoulder and neck where his face was hidden, quieting, then resuming when he saw that he had an audience. "Oh, I'm sure he'll be fine," she decided. After a moment, when her questioner didn't leave, she shifted the boy to a more secure position. "So do you usually stop and talk to people you meet on the street?"

He inclined his head in deference. "Not usually, no, even ignoring the fact that we're not on the street. Spark Hanson, ma'am, at your service. And you would be?" He looked at her expectantly.

She smiled, amused by the rather courtly manners. "Rommie. And this is Asher."

Asher looked up at his name, noticing that the stranger was still there. His sobbing had abated entirely, and now a sunny smile lit his face through the tear streaks, highlighting a dimple. "Hi."

"Hello, sir." Spark smiled back. "And I suppose you are the one escorting this lovely woman?"

Asher just grinned even harder. Rommie said, "It goes both ways."

"Are you here with the Commonwealth representatives?"

"Yes. We're part of the _Andromeda_ crew."

Spark slapped lightly at his leg. "That's where Ive heard your names! The news service has been broadcasting your arrival for a week! So what do you think of our president?" he wondered.

"Well, he's..." Rommie paused, in order to think of a way to best phrase it. The boy in her arms squirmed, and she let him down, keeping a tight grip on his hand as he started moving them both toward the playground. Spark followed. "He's an interesting person."

"You mean he's a complete flake and you have no idea how he got elected?"

"Yes."

He laughed. "Everyone says that. He's not really that dumb, he's acting the part. I think. That's probably a bad thing. Still, as long as we don't have any crises in the next couple of years, we should be all right." He turned mildly serious, though a hint of a smile lurked near the corners of his mouth. "Are you allowed to stay out here long, or is there a time limit?"

"No time limit, since I doubt the president even realizes that we're still out, but we shouldnt be out here too long anyway." Glancing down, she saw Asher light up, and it clicked when she saw the slide and swing set. He had ones aboard _Andromeda_, where Harper had rigged them on Obs. Deck, so it made sense that he'd want them now. Almost before he started to tug on her hand, she changed direction toward them. "Why do you want to know?"

"Because, if you don't have any overt objections, I'd rather like to make your acquaintance."

Rommie smiled, embarrassed, and looked down at the ground. "Well, you're going to have to do it while I push him." They'd reached the swings and now she helped Asher up into one, whispering, "Hold on." He giggled and pulled on the ropes hard enough to wiggle them. She took up her normal position behind him, giving him a light tap to start off.

Spark dropped into the swing next to them. "I believe I can adapt to a multi-tasking woman." A beat passed while she got Asher up to speed, then he asked, "I was wondering... You're an android, correct?"

She groaned mentally. She made it a rule to anticipate these questions, but they never, ever got easier. "Yes, I'm the ship's avatar."

"So Asher isn't your biological son." His expression was neutral, politely quizzical, like everyone else's who had asked these questions.

She was _so close_ to letting fly with a scathing remark reserved for occasions like this, but stopped. For one thing, Asher usually wasn't with her when the lines of questioning commenced, so she could afford to bite off a remark. For another, the phrasing caught her attention.

The vast majority of curious beings they'd run into had said, "So he isn't yours?" Spark had said, "So he isn't yours _biologically_?" That little difference made a lot of difference. Instead of snapping, she merely replied, "It's hard to have a biological son if you haven't got biology."

The reaction she got was better than she had expected. He laughed appreciatively at her remark. "I'll take a turn pushing, if you want."

Rommie was startled out of the regular rhythm of the task and missed one. She resumed, briefly, before deciding, "All right. Just be careful." She stepped back and he stepped forward, not even missing a beat.

Her taking up his old place, and vice versa, had Asher confused. "Rommie?"

"Its all right, Ash, I'm just taking a rest. Mister Hanson's pushing now."

"Spark," he said, ignoring the mildly dirty look she gave him.

Asher frowned, but then processed it and let it go, saying "Up!"

Spark transferred his attention back to Rommie, pushing Asher just enough higher to result in a playful screech. "Do you routinely introduce people to him formally?"

"Yes," she answered, swinging her legs to start her own swing moving. "_Andromeda_ meets with a lot of people, most of them dignitaries. However much any of them may be personally disliked- and I can think of several- we have to treat them with respect, including using their titles."

"Training him to be a diplomat already, then. Or was he born to it?" He was trying to be tactful, despite the prying nature of the question, but it didn't quite pass.

"If that's your way of asking who his parents are," Rommie said crisply, "they weren't any diplomats. Beyond that, I don't believe you need to know who his family is or was. In fact, we should probably get back to the negotiations." She halted the swing and half-rose, intending to collect Asher and leave.

What stopped her was Spark himself. "I apologize. I was just curious as to how you came to be taking care of a child. You're right; I shouldn't have asked. Please, sit back down."

She settled back onto the swing, somehow feeling that she shouldn't have given in so easily. "It's a very long story and I'd rather not tell it."

"So you accept my apology?" He endeavored to show a sad-puppy face, the same one Asher was in the habit of using on her. He knew that he really shouldn't have inquired as to the story, and curiosity was still killing him, but he did want to get to know her and the child- they were an intriguing pair, in his opinion.

Rommie smiled, just a little. "I suppose, but- What? What's wrong?"

In the middle of her sentence, Spark had turned, searching for something in the middle distance. He was frowning, only partly listening. After a moment, he answered, hesitantly. "I- it's nothing. It felt like I- we- were being stared at. I just didn't see anybody doing it."

"I can't tell," she tagged. She'd started scanning the area around them with visual, infrared, and any other sensor that she deemed as being helpful, as soon as hed said "being stared at," but there was nothing that she could discern, especially not with the number of people. In one direction alone, there was a small family having a picnic, a redhead stretched out sunning herself, a Wayist monk meditating under a tree, and a group of adults playing some sort of ball game.

"It's probably nothing," he decided, turning back. He noticed that Asher was starting to fret about the notable lack of propulsion and started pushing again. In an obvious attempt to lighten the mood, he started, "So what's it like onboard the _Andromeda_?"

Rommie took one last glance at the landscape again. Something still felt off, nagging at the edges of her circuit boards, but she dismissed it and went along with the conversation.

* * *

"You fell off?" Rommie laughed, falling back against the tree trunk she had been sitting against.

Spark nodded. "Right in front of His Excellency himself." He made a mock bow. "The deal, obviously, went to someone with a little more balance."

She giggled again and looked at Asher, who was busily employed gathering twigs from the ground under the tree and putting them in a pile. At that moment he was coming back with another double handful, dropping them on the top. He decided then that he had enough, sitting and starting to sort them into a different stack. She let him be. "I never did anything like that," she said smugly. "That's the advantage of being a warship. All I have to do is destroy the enemy."

"So what do you do if you have to impress your allies as a person instead of a warship?" He dropped down to his haunches and leaned closer to her.

They hadn't been this close the entire time they'd been out here. Spark could smell a light, almost baby-powder scent surrounding her; Rommie noticed the small freckles scattered over his cheeks and nose. She had opened her mouth, intending to say something, but it seemed very unimportant all of a sudden.

And then Asher dive-bombed them.

He almost jumped into her lap and beamed at her indignant exclamation of "Asher Darrell-!"

He interrupted her before she got any farther. "Dylan! Dylan!" As he repeated the name, he squirmed and twisted and pointed off toward the entrance of the park. When she looked she saw the captain coming their way, and even at this distance she could tell that he was annoyed.

She stood up abruptly and unceremoniously, only barely keeping from dumping Asher on the ground. She hadn't thought of how long they had been outside, and now she checked and realized that it had been well over an hour. "We have to leave," she informed Spark. "Ash, get Blob. Now."

Her companion had shot to his feet beside her. He looked about a shade paler than before, and was nervous. "Is that Captain Hunt?" He'd heard that the captain could be intimidating, and looming was definitely the guy's style.

"Yes, that's Dylan, and he's mad. We should have gone back in ages ago." Rommie turned to face Spark. "I'm sorry to bring the wrath of the captain down on you, but I had fun." She chanced a glance at the approaching figure, now well within shouting distance. "Maybe you should leave before he gets here."

"That sounds like a pretty good idea. Don't apologize, though, I should be the one doing that. Look me up the next time you come to Poetry. Or may I look you up?" He smiled hopefully, a little like Harper but without the lecherous aspect.

"I wouldn't mind." She smiled, self-conscious, as he took her hand and lightly kissed the back before heading off in another direction.

Rommie turned to find Dylan within ten feet. "Hello."

"Dylan!" Asher ran over, dropping Blob, and hugged his leg. He idolized the captain, though he sometimes didn't see him for up to two or three weeks at a time.

"Hi again, Asher. I hope you enjoyed yourself."

"Fun!" he crowed, and held out his arms to be picked up.

Dylan lifted him, then focused on Rommie, ignoring the hands playing with his uniform collar. "Do you realize how long you've been out here? We got a break and I decided to see where you'd gone. What have you been doing out here? And who was it that you were just talking to?" He spoke quickly, not wasting time on such things as politeness. He had been getting more and more annoyed as the time passed and the other two hadn't returned. It had passed into worry after a while- after all, he had let them go out without a security guard, and someone who was resourceful enough could immobilize even Rommie, especially if she was distracted by Asher. He hadn't wanted to risk using the communicator. And then he had come out at the first opportunity, to find them both fine and just standing there talking to someone, especially since it was a someone who hadn't bothered to even stay long enough for Dylan to see who it was. That rankled somewhat, since they had come down here to negotiate and not socialize.

"Dylan," she said, "relax. I lost track of time, and you know Ash. He could have played out here for hours without even noticing. The man I was talking to was just one of the citizens." She waited, hoping that that would pacify him. The last time he'd looked this annoyed, he'd sprained Tyr's wrist in a "friendly" basketball game.

"We could have used you! And we had no way of knowing where you and Asher were."

"Were there any problems?" she asked, figuring that if he had been really worried he could have just contacted her with the subdermal communicator he had.

"No, not yet, but we were here on a diplomatic mission, not shore leave." He pulled Ashers hands away from his uniform. "Stop that."

The boy was starting to get upset, his face screwing up and his entire demeanor looking stormy. The argument was getting to him. "Rommie!"

"Here." She took him back from the captain; he latched onto her with both arms. "You shouldn't play with peoples clothing," she admonished, knowing that it was probably beside the point. Turning her attention back to Dylan, she told him, "We were out here the entire time. You could have contacted me if you really needed us back, and you didn't have any problems."

"Fine. But don't do it again, or we could lose an entire system. And I don't think we should bring him along next time, no matter what." He turned and started off, leaving them behind. His body was still rigid with anger.

Rommie bit her tongue as she set Asher down. Sometimes his single-minded fixation on the Commonwealth really got to her. As soon as Asher had retrieved Blob, they followed Dylan.

The captain had a point in that they shouldn't have stayed out there so long. It really was irresponsible of her and unbefitting her position to do something like that, but it had been an honest mistake. He had overreacted, though, making her defensive attitudes kick in.

For starters, it was hardly Asher's fault that they had been delayed. Yes, he had been the one that they went outside for, but she could have taken them in at anytime just by saying goodbye to Spark. It had been downright mean of him to say some of what he had right in front of the child; he may not have understood all of the words, but he had understood the tone behind them.

Besides, she'd noticed that Dylan's attitude had gotten progressively military since the Commonwealth had been formally established. There was something about answering to the brass that had put the starch back in his uniform and the rod... At any rate, he still had a tendency to blame non-military behavior for disruptions, and that included the irregular behavior of the old _Maru_ crew, Asher, and any quirks in her programming. In Asher's case, he still hadn't quite accepted the fact that he was staying with her, probably permanently. Once in a while, something of this sort was good for him, to jar him into a realization of the fact, albeit temporarily.

She snapped her attention back to the world and away from her thoughts as they came to the street between the park and the government buildings.


	10. Undercover

Author's Note: Warning, mild shippiness ahoy! 

Rainbowscape, Cassie, darkshadow-23, thank you so much for letting me know what you think. Don't worry, something will happen, I promise.

****

The Child

Chapter Ten: Undercover

By B.L.A. the Mouse 

Beka stared at the flexi in her hand, bringing up yet another news report on the computer screen. She was distracted from it by the sound of the door opening. "Tyr?" she called.

"Yes." He came through the open door between the foyer and the main room, carrying a bag. 

"Is that dinner?"

"Yes," he repeated.

"Great! I'm starved." She got to her feet, dropping the flexi on the desk, and tried to peek into the bag as he passed her. "What is it?"

"Sandwiches." Dodging her, he went over to the kitchen area and started taking out the food.

She frowned as she followed him over. "Didn't we have those night before last?"

"Do you want to eat, or do you want to cook for us for a change?" He braced his arms against the counter as he waited for her response. 

Beka sat at one of the stools by the counter. "You know, I love sandwiches," she stage-whispered confidentially.

He grinned and continued unpacking the bag. 

Being stuck in a tiny apartment of three rooms and a miniature foyer demanded getting to know each other better. He'd found out by now that Beka hated cooking, loved hot showers, and preferred the left side of the bed. On the other hand, she'd discovered that he played opera and stole the covers- he'd been woken up more than once by having her tug at the blankets. Since they were supposed to be living together, it would have been hard to explain two beds; they'd finally had to settle for sleeping together in the middle. As a direct result of that decision, she'd also discovered that he had a tendency to hug her in his sleep. She'd been sworn not to tell anyone, but she thought it was funny that the big bad mercenary would treat her almost like a stuffed animal. 

"So did you get anything else we could use?" Tyr asked, lifting the sandwich she had started to construct and slid a plate under it. 

She glared at him briefly, but said, "Not yet. I only got partway through, but," she paused to lick a bit of spread off of one finger, "if we split the list we can finish it tonight. Did you get anything to drink?"

"Don't we have any coffee left?"

"No, I finished it. Tea, maybe? Anything you had planned for tonight?"

"Tea, then." He started pulling out the mugs. "No, we can get it done then."

*****

They'd spent the last six weeks on a small planet near San-Ska-Ra, on rather sensitive mission. As a "service" for the New Commonwealth, they'd been ordered to go undercover to gather information on a crimelord operating in the area. Since the crew of the _Andromeda_ was considered the Commonwealth's best and brightest, they were trusted with it. 

As everyone else was needed, in some way, onboard, Beka and Tyr were selected. Since some of the crew- namely Harper- had decided that it would be an effective disguise, and that they made a "cute couple," they had been set up as lovers, living together. Beka had nearly decked him for that, and Tyr had had to practice a great deal of self-restraint to keep from doing the same with much more force. 

By necessity, the mission was very hush-hush, as the crimelord in question, Jasper Markio, was known for being very alert, very careful, and very vindictive. Knowledge in the computer core and AI matrix was shrouded in so many levels of security that it was nearly impossible to find. 

Still, whatever the reasons, the end result was the same- they were sitting in a cramped apartment planetside, going through new reports for anything on Jasper Markio. 

Beka skimmed another flexi. She was about to clear it when a tacked-on comment caught her eye. "Hey, he just got married."

"What?" Tyr looked over from where he was hunched over another flexi. 

"Yeah, second time. Or third, they're not sure which. Here." She cleared her throat before reading, "'His newest wife hasn't been seen or identified by any of the public or any of his known conspirators. She is, in fact, a complete mystery, a woman with no known background or identity, in direct contrast to his deceased spouse, a noted actress.' Huh. Wonder what _she_ did to tick him off."

"She could have died of natural causes."

"Yeah, but I don't think having your throat slit counts as a natural cause. Ugh." She set the flexi down. "May as well add it to the list."

"Done." He glanced up in time to catch the tail end of her yawn. "It's late. We should probably go to bed."

"I vote yes." She took his proffered hand and got pulled to her feet. "You realize that we have two weeks before we head back to _Andromeda_?"

"I noticed." He looked down again as she leaned on his arm while they walked. "Anything you think you might miss?"

"Hot water, fresh food, and a warm body in the bed."

"Get a pet," he advised. He managed to dodge the playful swat, but the glare was a little harder to avoid.

She yawned again and stretched as they entered the bedroom, pushing off him. "I'm grabbing a shower. See you in the bed."

He watched her disappear into the bathroom, shaking his head slightly. 

They had two more weeks until they returned. They couldn't risk exposure any longer than that. As it was, they still had to find a few more pieces of evidence before then, or else Markio was going to weasel out of any sort of sentence and go back to his former unscrupulous activities. 


	11. Arrivals

Author's Note: I'm sorry I was away for so long, guys. I had some major problems with my computer, and the "borrowed computers" approach wasn't working too well. I want to extend my thanks to all of you for waiting for this chapter. The rest of them should be up really quickly; I have them all written (see, I

_didn't_ spend the computer-less time doing no writing!) and I just have to get them typed and posted, which should be within the next couple of weeks, knock on wood.

Special thanks to: darkshadow-23, Soulfire, Dark Topaz, Rainbowscape, Makura Koneko, and The Sugar Junkie. Your reviews were great, and I really appreciate them. As you all can see, I did write more. Grins and giggles to everyone, see you next chapter!

****

The Child

Chapter Eleven: Arrivals

By B.L.A. the Mouse

When Beka and Tyr stepped out of the slipfighter, they were met by the entire senior staff and Asher (who was hanging onto Harper's hand only under duress). The first ones to greet them were, in fact, Asher and Harper, pelting forward at the same time. The engineer caught Beka in an exuberant hug as Tyr picked up the child.

"You're back!" Harper shouted, giving her an extra squeeze.

"Tyr!" Asher shrieked.

Beka laughed and hugged Harper back as Trance approached, a little more sedate but still walking awfully fast. The alien had a broad grin stretching across her face, the usual combination of sheer happiness and a little lurking shy reserve that had hung around since her purple days. She didn't hug either of them- she couldn't get between Harper and his captain without a crowbar anyway- but accepted Beka's effervescent greeting and Tyr's nod.

Coming forward together, Dylan and Rommie were the last to meet them. The latter was beaming at them both, and even the captain seemed slightly softened. "Hi," he said. "Have a nice trip?"

Beka answered, tongue-in-cheek. "Oh, great, except for the work and the partner. I had no time to bar-hop."

Tyr gave her an affronted look, while Trance was amused, Harper commiserated, Rommie was faintly disapproving, and Dylan was more so. Asher missed the entire thing, choosing that moment to fling himself from Tyr to Beka and shout her name instead.

"Hey, kid. I'm glad to see you too."

Dylan was eager to get to work. For one thing, the drift they were orbiting wasn't a member of the Commonwealth, so he had to at least try to make a pitch. "So did you accomplish the job?"

"Geez, Boss, let them unpack their stuff before you start talking shop, will ya?" Harper frowned at Dylan, then grabbed Asher as he tried to make an escape from the small circle. For all his original squeamishness about children, he was by now almost an acting big brother to the boy, and spent unorthodox amounts of time with him.

"I agree with him," Beka stated flatly. "How've you guys been?"

That sparked off a discussion that lasted several minutes. It slowed slightly when Tyr left to get the bags from the slipfighter, and even more when Harper and Asher went with him, reasons respectively to check the ship status and just to tag along.

After a few minutes, Dylan declared, "I have to get back to Command deck, I'm on duty this shift."

"Aw, come on, we just got back," Beka teased, smiling, but he cut her off.

"No, I have to get back." With that, he turned and walked off.

"Gee, sorry to take up his precious time," Beka muttered as they watched his retreating back. "I think I liked him better back when he was human."

The other two didn't say anything, but they agreed mentally. Dylan had gotten fairly distant in the past year, since they'd actually gotten the Commonwealth up and running. He still had the occasional moment, but they were fewer and farther apart.

"Actually, I have to get back to Med deck," Trance said quietly. "The new technicians having trouble with the equipment, and I need to take care of Gracie."

"Gracie?"

"New plant," Rommie explained.

"She's got disease and she needs pruning. She'll be much better once I'm done, and then I'll put her with George."

"Let me guess- another new plant."

"A set of rose bushes," Rommie clarified again, "that Harper got for her at the last planet we visited."

"Oh."

Trance nodded. "And you and Tyr need to come to Med deck sometime. The new mission protocol that got instituted. Remember?"

Beka shook her head at the girl, then turned her attention back to Rommie. "So what else did I miss? We covered the new crew already."

"Three member worlds, a near diplomatic incident, and Asher started running." Her smile grew on the last one.

"A _near_ diplomatic incident? What did Harper do this time?" Beka was by now well used to the vagaries of the crew, and Trance's strangeness and Harper's ineptitude at subtlety were two of the big ones.

"It wasn't Harper." At the surprised glance she received, she went on. "We were negotiating with the Bard system, and Asher and I took a break. I started talking to one of the citizens and lost track of time. Dylan wasn't very happy, but luckily enough the president had no idea what was going on."

"Who was so interesting as to risk Dylan's wrath?"

"A trader. Spark Hanson, he said."

Beka frowned in concentration. "Never heard of him. What was so interesting?"

Just then Tyr and Harper came out of the fighter, carrying a couple of bags. Setting them down, they joined the group.

"Harper," Rommie asked, "where's Asher? He was with you." And he hadn't come out with them.

"He's on the slipfighter." At the glare she sent him, he turned back. "All right, _going_!"

He didn't have to go far. As he moved, Asher came out of the slipfighter backward, pulling on a bag and dragging it out to the pile. He was red-faced with the effort by the time he finished, but he ran over to Rommie and tugged at her hand, smiling. "Good?"

"Very good, Ash. Thank you." He smiled enough to show a dimple, then started to walk laps around her.

Tyr looked at him critically. "It's been two months. What progress has he made?"

"He can run, his walking's getting better, and he learned two new words," she informed him, proudly.

"What words?"

"Toe and what."

The Nietzschean had been keeping track of Asher's development, and now he nodded and glanced at him again, but not before she caught the faint smile. After the first few months, and especially after Carmens demise, most of the crew had pretty much adopted Asher into their small family. As the new crew joined, most of them at least became remotely familiar with him, and now the sole holdouts were Dylan and Rommie's own mainframe.

"How _did_ the mission go?"

"Better than she described," Tyr cut in, before Beka could comment again. He gave her a warning look, which she promptly ignored.

"Only for him. I had to spend two months playing near-housewife. Absolute joy."

Most of the assembled rolled their eyes. Harper, on the other hand, threatened, "I'll interrogate you two later. Let's go, Ash, this is threatening to become boring." He left, with a delighted toddler trotting along beside him.

Rommie didn't worry about it. Whenever he was with Harper, Beka, Tyr, Dylan, Trance, or Jenkins, she didn't- well, not any more than usual. "Did you get the information?"

"His goose is cooked," Beka answered succinctly.

Tyr translated, "We have it," needlessly, as shed heard enough Harperisms to get it.

"Dylan'll get it all later, so I won't bother with details." She flashed a quick smile. "Do you want any help with the bags?"

"Nah, we're good. I'll talk to you later."

She nodded. "I'd better go make sure Harper isn't taking Asher into slipstream core." She always told him not to, but she was never sure whether or not he listened.

Beka stared at the pile of bags. "Um, that one's yours, but I'm not sure which one of the others you have."

"I'm fairly sure that those two are yours." He tossed her them, then took his own. "And if I'm incorrect, then we can switch."

* * *

Beka let herself into Tyr's quarters and smiled at what she saw- Tyr sitting on the floor playing some sort of ball game with Asher. "Did you even unpack yet?" she asked, bending down as the boy came over and hugged her enthusiastically. After a moment, he wriggled until she let him go, then took off after the ball.

Tyr had stood, and now he spoke to her. "You've unpacked, then?"

"Yes," she answered, grinning cheekily at his warning look. "That's why I'm here. This one's yours, and I threw in some of the stuff that was in my bag." She handed him a duffel bag to punctuate the statement.

Taking it, he riffled through enough to determine that it really was his before tossing it on the bed. "And I suppose you want your items back, as well?"

"You'd suppose. Will you drop them back at my quarters, or do you want me to stay?"

"Feel free to stay," he replied, with a feral smile at the possible subtext.

Aware of Asher running around the room as the ball bounced off the furniture and walls, Beka changed the subject. "So why do you have Ash?"

"Harper had to do work in the slipstream core. Everyone else was unavailable, and I happened to be the one pressed into service. Lieutenant Jenkins should be here shortly to take him."

"In the meantime, we've got him, right?"

"We?"

"I'm free to stay, aren't I?" She kneeled down as Asher came over with the ball he'd finally managed to retrieve and started rolling back and forth. Tyr snorted in amazement at the amount of license she took with the one sentence, but gave up and joined them.

It wasn't long before Jenkins arrived, but it was long enough for the game to degenerate into chaos. Tyr was sitting, leaning back against his elbows, on the floor, with Asher standing on his stomach; Beka was standing straddling his legs, holding the boy upright by his hands. "Now," she said, fighting back the urge to laugh but not succeeding, "do you surrender?"

Tyr was having only a little bit more luck at suppression, just grinning ridiculously but not giggling. He replied, faux haughtily but interrupted by a couple of snickers, "Nietzscheans do not surrender!"

"All right." She leaned down next to Asher and asked, "What should we do now?"

He beamed at them both and started marching in place, letting out a peal of laughter as she led him up Tyr's chest and back down again. In only a couple more minutes, Beka gave up the fight and sat down next to Tyr, erupting in paroxysms of mirth and catching Asher as he toppled. Even Tyr chuckled openly as they sprawled over the floor and each other.

Someone chimed for entry.

Beka and Tyr stopped laughing immediately, and Asher trailed off when they did. After a moment, it chimed again, politely demanding attention. Tyr got up to answer, while Beka picked herself and Asher up and started searching for anything he'd brought besides his ball. She was still wiping off the tears of laughter when Jenkins stepped just inside the door.

"I'm here for Asher?" She had the feeling she was interrupting something, though she had no idea what.

"Right here." Beka ushered him forward. He was scowling at having his fun interrupted, clutching at Blob with one hand, but he brightened at seeing Jenkins.

"'Lex!"

"Hi, Asher." She accepted the ball as Beka handed it to her. "Thanks for holding him until I came on duty."

They didn't say anything as she tugged the boy toward the door until he turned back and said cheerfully, "Bye-bye."

"Bye, Ash." Beka added a little wave to her words as they left. There was silence for a moment before Beka turned to Tyr. "Too bad he left so soon. I was having fun."

"Really? Was it the part where Asher hit me with the ball, or perhaps when the two of you were calling for my surrender?"

"Come on, you were enjoying yourself just as much as we were." She stepped closer and dropped her voice to a conspiratorial level. "Admit it."

"I was not having fun." He had been, but it didn't seem very dignified to admit to having fun when it also meant admitting to being even playfully threatened by a female and a child. Still, her plaintively mocking expression got to him and he half-smiled.

"See? Toldja." She smirked, then suggested, "Since I'm already here, why don't we start sorting some of my stuff out from yours?"

* * *

Command deck was mostly quiet, with low beeps of machinery, clanks of repairs and upgrades, and a dull hum of conversation interrupting. Rommie glanced at Dylan as he stepped up beside her, interrupting her contemplation of the sounds of the room. "I never could wait to form a High Guard crew, but after the _Maru_ crew, they seem very... bland."

"Beggars can't be choosers, Rommie, and we are very much beggars when it comes to crew." He hit up a new display on the console. "How are Beka and Tyr settling back in? They've been gone for so long they might have trouble."

She called up information on their whereabouts from her mainframe. They were both in Tyr's quarters, with privacy mode engaged- nothing unusual about that, Tyr's quarters were always in privacy mode. Asher had been in there for a while, but for the last half hour it had been the two of them alone. She decided to edit that before telling Dylan; he might not react well with the idea of two senior crewmembers, especially when one was Tyr, closeted away like that. "I think they're doing fine."

"Good. They already gave me the information regarding Markio and got the medical checks, so I guess they can have a couple more days before going back on duty." Actually, when they had been in his office giving him the information, he'd noticed something odd. "Have you noticed them acting strange around each other? I was talking to them earlier and they seemed to get along much better than before. They said they hadn't had any real problems with the cover, either."

"They've been living together for two months. They're bound to getting along better- unless, of course, one of them killed the other, which was an equal possibility."

She was spared another question when an ensign- one of the ones she'd met when she and Asher had eaten with Jenkins- interrupted. "Incoming message, Captain. It's from a small craft in a holding pattern around the drift. Should I put it through?"

Dylan gestured in an obvious "go ahead" movement. "Of course."

"Hello, Captain Hunt." The woman on the other end of the link appeared extremely young, despite the expression that suggested the cat toying with the mouse. Her hair, an unlikely shade of raspberry red, fell around caramel-colored shoulders laid bare by her shirt. "Since you probably remember me fairly well, I'll cut to the chase."

In the back of the room, someone started to ask "What-" but was quickly shushed. Talking wasn't the best thing to do when the captain was negotiating.

"I learned that you were in the area, so I decided to stop by." Now she leaned forward, looking serious and somehow much more like when they had seen her last. "I needed to take care of some unfinished business, and I think you can help me. In fact, I'm fairly sure you can." She waited for a response, done saying her lines.

Dylan didn't speak now, startled into silence. Nobody said anything, quiet absolute now, stretching longer

At last, Rommie broke the hold of the curious muteness, speaking the next words in the bizarre script of the day. "Hello, Carmen."


	12. Return

Author's Note: Don't hurt me! I'm working! I'm working, I swear it! It's REAL LIFE's fault! OK, so seriously, it's my other commitments, my computer's circuitry and the fact that I share said computer with four other people (one of whom loves fiddling with it).

Now, big deep breath, thank you's in tons to: Yullia, D. Lerious, JA Baker, Snazz, Makura Koneko, Rainbowscape, darkshadow-23, Lady Parcifal, Johnny K, Desert-Rose, Persephone, and Pocky (whew, that's a lot of names; not that I'm complaining!). Thank you again, so much!

See you next chapter (and hopefully all of you won't have to show up with wet noodles to beat me with for being late).

****

The Child

Chapter Twelve: Return

By B.L.A. the Mouse

Carmen refocused her attention from the captain to the android. "Rommie. You might want to check that your captain isn't sleeping with his eyes open."

Hearing that, Dylan blinked, but said nothing. This was Rommie's show, as far as he was concerned.

"What are you here for?" She stepped down from the platform, coming around to the front.

Carmen adjusted something on her end before straightening, flipping her hair back carelessly. In Rommie's opinion, that seemed to be indicative of how she acted as a whole. "I don't do negotiations over a commlink. Can I come aboard?" The question was perfunctory, not really expecting a negative answer.

Keeping her eyes fixed on the screen, Rommie tilted her head toward Dylan. "Captain?"

"Excuse us," he told Carmen, pressing a button to keep the commlink on hold, as it were. "It's your call," he decided, leaning over the console to look at her, "since you're the one who has the most to deal with her about."

"I can't accidentally fire on her, can I?"

"No."

"All right, put her on." She turned back to the screen as the connection activated.

Carmen looked like she could care less about what had transpired. "So I can dock?"

"Yes." Dylan was surprised at the decision, but let it pass. Carmen obviously was as well, but didn't say anything as Rommie continued, "We'll start the docking procedures. Five minutes."

Carmen cut off the connection right before one of the crewmen piped up, "Andromeda, it doesn't take five minutes to dock."

"I know that." When she left Command deck, Dylan followed.

Once outside, she stopped at the first wall screen she came to, opening a line to her quarters. "Jenkins, I need to talk to you."

"Give me one minute."

Dylan leaned over her shoulder. "What are you doing?" he asked in an undertone.

"Attending to something," she replied in kind.

"I'm here." Jenkins sounded a little ruffled, explaining it in her next comment. "I had to get Ash away from the computer first."

_Well, that sounds reasonable._ The one thing they could count on with Asher was that he would get into anything that sufficiently caught his attention, and the computer display coming on would count. "Your shift ends in a few minutes. I may need you to stay later. If you can't, leave Ash with Trance or Harper."

"Understood."

"Good." Rommie shut it off. "Andromeda, ask Commander Carter to report to the landing bay. I want someone with us."

Dylan laughed- a little. "Do you think she's going to try to take over the ship?" He got a sort of déjà vu with the words; the return of Carmen had triggered a lot of memories, among them what he had said to Tyr a year and a half before.

"No." She started walking, keeping her tone calm and factual. It was a façade- her equivalent of a human stomach felt twisted and wrenched in every direction. "But she isn't here for a social visit, and I'm almost certain it has to do with her maybe taking Asher back."

"Why?" He kept up with her, even as she quickened her pace.

"Because, analyzing all cases available where the birth mother returns, she's there to take the child back."

"Rommie- Rommie, _stop_." He caught her arm. "Why would you even analyze that?"

"Because it's relevant!" She knocked his hand away, fuming with anger, fear, and incipient pain.

They stared at each other, time slowing to a crawl. Their eyes never wavered. Finally she breathed, voice unsteady, "I'm scared, Dylan."

"I know," he murmured.

"Do you remember," she whispered, the tears not falling from her eyes but flooding her voice, "when you told me that you were my heart, and always would be?" When he nodded, she finished, "I don't need you as a heart. I know I have one, because it hurts, right here," she laid a trembling hand over her breast.

He silently pulled her into a hug, _For her comfort_, he told himself. He shied away from the thoughts that she had raised, focusing solely on soothing her.

* * *

When they reached the bay, Commander Carter was already there. He saluted sharply. "Sirs."

Rommie, poised and polished to external examination, nodded, and Dylan muttered a word of acknowledgement before they turned their attention to the woman exiting the small craft.

__

...dark smoke billowed out...

She looked up. "The royal welcome, I see. Captain, avatar, and security."

Dylan had to suppress the urge to shake his head. This wasn't Carmen the Mystery Woman, in labor and her ship damaged; this was Carmen Lark, returned and reinvented.

__

"...an engineer. I need a doctor..."

The voice sounded a lot alike, though. "Welcome aboard. Again." Since he was forced to be diplomatic, he extended a hand, but it fell to his side when she ignored it, stepping past him to face Rommie, only a few feet away.

The android stared at the woman, thinking briefly and fleetingly of the last time they'd stood like this. Then Rommie had been holding a borrowed baby, and Carmen bags. Then she had never taken care of a child before. Then Carmen had been a blond. "You were on Poetry, weren't you?" she asked, knowing the answer already. "You were watching Asher and Spark and I."

A single nod answered. "It was the hair, wasn't it? He warned me it would get noticed."

"It did. You were the only red-haired person around at the time. Did you do it intentionally?"

"The hair and the watching, yes. The getting noticed, no."

Dylan observed the exchange, mystified and fascinated. The conversation was puzzling to anyone other than the two of them.

At this juncture, Carmen cleared her throat and straightened, throwing back her shoulders in a burst of confidence. In that moment, she looked only superficially like the woman who had arrived and left, nervously aloof, a year and a half ago. "I'd like to see my son."

"I'm surprised you even remember that you had a boy." Rommie's voice held a faint strain of bitterness, undetectable in her manner, and the faint stress on "had" did not go unnoticed. "Wouldn't you prefer to have a few hours to get your bearings first?"

"You don't want me to see him yet. All right. So you're the one taking care of him?"

"Yes. Someone has to." Rommie let her eyes slide up to meet Carmens. "You left, after all."

Carmens lips quirked into an unpleasant smirk. Dylan saw it, anticipating the fur that was about to fly, and intervened. "Carmen, are you going to be here a while?"

She considered a moment. "Probably."

"Well, then, why don't we just put you in crew quarters until we get this sorted out? Commander," he called over Carter before she could get a word in, "take Ms. Lark here to one of the empty crew quarters, would you, and just make sure Andromeda knows which ones to tell me. She can return for her things later, if she needs them."

"Sir!" The officer jumped to attention, taking Carmen firmly by the arm and guiding her out of the bay, ignoring her unlawful oath.

Dylan turned to Rommie again now. "What was that? I know this is hard, but you have to keep it together, at least in front of her."

"I'm sorry." She crossed her arms. "But sometimes, I think of Carmen, and how she just_... left_ him here without even an explanation. I get angry then, but now that she's actually onboard it's even worse."

_Okay, time to delegate._ "You go back to your quarters, explain the situation to Lieutenant Jenkins, and take care of Asher. I'll let the rest of the senior staff know." She nodded. "Go!" As soon as she'd left, he asked, "Andromeda, where is everybody?"

The hologram flickered in on her avatar's heels, looking unnerved and impeccable, as always. "Beka and Tyr are in his quarters, Trance is in Hydroponics, and Harper is on the _Maru_."

* * *

Dylan decided to tackle Beka and Tyr first. After only a moment's wait outside the latter's quarters, the door slid open. Tyr- who else?- stood on the other side. He glanced at the captain, then stood aside. "Come in."

Beka was sitting on the sofa, legs tucked under her. "What's up?" She was pretty sure he wouldn't interrupt them off-duty, at least nowadays, unless it was dire. There were always eager people to do someone's bidding.

"We have a problem." Dylan looked around the room- there were a couple of bags on the bed, with clothes spilling out. They'd spent at least some of the time they were in here sorting out the mixed clothes, even he could tell that much.

"That would be obvious. What is it?" Tyr closed the door, coming around to where he could talk directly to both of them, making almost a triad shape.

Dylan took a very deep breath before speaking. "Carmen's back."

"What?" Beka exploded, getting to her feet faster than either of the other two would have thought possible. "She's dead! Isn't she?"

"That's what I thought."

Tyr frowned. "And how exactly has she accomplished the miraculous act of returning from a fiery death?"

"I don't know." Dylan rubbed at the back of his neck, feeling a little helpless. "She's back, and Rommie thinks she wants Asher. We've put her up in crew quarters for the time being."

"So we don't know why she's here, whether she wants Asher, or why she isn't dead, and you gave her quarters?" Incredulous, Tyr shook his head. "This is idiocy."

"Tyr, a wise man once said to keep your friends close and your enemies closer."

"And exactly how long did that man live?"

Beka stared up at the ceiling, commenting idly, "This isn't helping." When they both backed down- metaphorically- she put her hands on her hips and continued, "So we know she's back, despite the fact that she died over a year ago, and that's it?"

"Two weeks ago, while we were planetside, Rommie saw Carmen watching her and Asher. She didn't report it to anyone because she didn't know it was Carmen at the time." Dylan waited a moment, through somewhat stunned silence.

"Dammit," Beka finally sighed.

Tyr completed the thought, muttering, "This is a problem."

* * *

Trance looked up as Rommie entered, very shaky. The android had checked with Andromeda when neither boy nor officer were in her quarters, and was told that Jenkins had had to leave him with the golden girl. "Something come up?" she asked, already knowing that something had- part and parcel of feeling the time-streams. Something directly involving the _Andromeda_ crew had been approaching for some time now, and had almost come to a head. A few more twists and turns and it would be resolved, she hoped; she had a feeling that that was what Rommie was distressed about.

Rommie explained, shedding a great deal of light onto the matter, but still not enough, "Carmen's back."

"But she's dead, isnt she?" Trance kept her features carefully controlled as she trimmed a twig off Gracie before adding some water to the soil.

Shaking her head, Rommie leaned on the edge of the table Trance was working at. "How often do we see people who are supposedly dead?"

"A lot?" she suggested, getting a black look that didnt quite make it.

"I'm sorry, it's just been a long day," Rommie sighed, straightening. "Lieutenant Jenkins left Asher here?"

"Yeah, he was right-" Trance turned to find empty space, "-here?"

"Ash? Where are you?" she rose her voice enough to make herself heard. She knew he was in the room, and was pretty sure where, but sensors only went so far.

A small giggle betrayed that he was behind a planter, like she thought. She decided to make a game out of it and went down on her hands and knees, crawling toward the planter. "You know, Trance, I can't possibly think where he might be." Another giggle escaped. "Wait, I might know where he is. But when he's so quiet, I can't be sure." Following the trail of another titter, she went around the corner and came face to face with the grinning wraith. "I found him!"

Trance smiled, watching as the avatar picked him up, getting a sloppy kiss in return. She had always enjoyed watching them together, and now she set aside her tools and observed them as they laughed together. It was a good sight, a little spot of happiness in a too-often-troubled universe. She could see the wisdom in her younger self's perfect possible future more often when they were around, wanting to promote more such scenes of harmony.

Her train of thought was interrupted when Harper stormed in, waving a nanowelder. "Where is she? I'll kill her!"

"Harper!" Rommie scowled at him. Asher, still up in her arms, stared at him; hed seen the engineer mad maybe once before.

"Sorry, babe," he muttered, somewhat chastened.

Dylan was obviously pursuing Harper, as the doors opened just then. "Would you calm _down_!" he bellowed, then realized that he had four people staring at him. In a belated attempt to save his dignity, he cleared his throat and said, "Since I see you already have, I guess I'm a little late." The suppressed smiles sent a wave of heat to his face, and he attempted to change the subject. "Since we're already here and know, now would be a good time to see what our options are... Or most of us, anyway. Where are Beka and Tyr? They were right behind me."

Andromeda's voice resonated through the room. "They're right outside, but I wouldn't advise interrupting them!" Her voice rose dangerously on the last few syllables, but the warning came too late.

The captain punched the controls and the door slid open in just enough time for Beka to fall onto him, knocking both of them over. Tyr nearly added himself to the pile but managed to stumble to a stop.

"Ouch! Dammit, Dylan, why'd you open the door?" Beka accepted Tyr's hand and got to her feet.

"Why were you leaning on it?" he asked, then his eyes widened as he thought about it. "Oh, never mind, I don't think I want to know."

She crossed her arms stubbornly. "We were talking before we came in." She glanced over at Tyr, who merely shifted and twitched his hair back over his shoulder.

Harper commented, "Rommie, don't you always say that Dylan is 'in conference' when- Ow!" He rubbed at the arm she swatted at.

Tyr glared at him, then stated, "I believe we're all here."

Dylan swallowed, still looking like he thought they were lying through their teeth. "Yes, we're here, and we all know what's going on, so what do you think?" Rommie had set down Asher, and now Dylan picked him up. The child had picked up on the general air, and now clung tightly to his hero, especially since Blob was still behind the planter.

"I'm all for sending her out a missile launcher," Beka offered.

"That's reasonable," Tyr added. "We'd eliminate her tendencies to abandon people from the gene pool."

The captain eyed them as if they were crazy. He did agree, actually, but... "That isn't an option. We're not allowed."

"Too bad," Harper remarked, then his eyes lit up. "Hey, maybe I could rig up something to send her into another dimension or a few galaxies over or something! Maybe use the teleporter- no, that wouldnt work, no black hole- or... Yeah! Where'd I put the rest of my tesseract machine? I mean, time, space, it's all relative, right?"

"No, we shouldn't play with time now," Trance decreed, staring fixedly at a point in the middle distance, one that only she could see. Beka, Tyr, Harper, and Dylan got a simultaneous shiver down their respective spines when she did that, as they always did.

"So we're entertaining Carmen onboard until we can find out what she's here for?" Tyr was not enthused about the prospect.

Beka swore volubly, fluidly, and with wonderful timing.


	13. Revelations

Author's Note: Ha! It's up on time! (And you can't see me, but I'm dancing around the room in triumph. I think I need to check my sugar consumption.)

All right, acknowledgements for this chapter. I took the related story from the Good News Bible, Today's English Version. The song is "Day Is Done," as sung by Peter, Paul and Mary.

Thank you, a lot of thanks, to: Yullia, JA Baker, Desert-Rose, Makura Koneko, darkshadow-23, and Rainbowscape. You guys are wonderful at reviewing! See you in the next (and, alas, final!) chapter!

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The Child

Chapter Thirteen: Revelations

By B.L.A. the Mouse

"Okay," Dylan gestured Carmen to the chair across the deck from him, "sit."

"Yes, sir!" The salute was sloppy and irreverent, and the title sarcastic, made as the woman did a graceful slide into the seat. He was surprised; when they'd last seen her, graceful hadn't been a word he'd have used to describe her. Of course, then she'd just had a baby. "So what am I here for?"

The meeting had the feel of a student summoned to the principal's office. He leaned forward, intent, as he said, "I have a few questions."

"Why are you here?" Andromeda promptly supplied, hologram flickering in and looking stern.

Instead of reprimanding her, he added, "Inquiring minds want to know."

Carmen debated, briefly, what to tell them. An outright lie wouldn't be a good idea, but neither would absolute truth. So she went for the middle ground. "I think you already know. I want my son back."

"Why?"

"What?" Carmen was startled.

So was Andromeda. "What?"

"Why do you want him?" Dylan felt himself to be on reasonably firm ground after her reaction. He leaned back in the chair. "A year and a half ago you left him aboard this ship. Two months later, we received confirmation of your death. I'm assuming you faked it, but we can go into that later. Now I want to know why you suddenly want him back. And-" he held up a cautioning hand, "I do not want you to tell me that you discovered parenthood was your true calling, or you need him back to make your life complete, or that you loved him all along and just realized it. We both know that isn't it, so you may as well just save time by _not_ saying it."

"Fair enough. I just got married. My husband wants a son and heir, and while that's old-fashioned I can still appreciate it. But I don't want to have to go through all that again. I told him about the baby I'd already had, and he agreed that if I brought the boy back with me, he'd adopt him instead. If I don't I have to have another. Is that adequate?"

Dylan rubbed at his chin. Somehow dealing with these situations was easier when they didn't involve children, people he knew, or both. "That's part of what I need to know. Now why didn't you report in as a survivor on Pavlov Drift?"

"Ah, the million throne question. Simple. It's easy to avoid people who want you dead by saying you are dead."

"Why do they want you dead?" he asked, smiling fakely.

"They lost a few hundred thrones on a venture and wanted to get the money back immediately. They didn't care that I couldn't help them."

"I'm sure. You didn't have anything to do with the attack?"

"No, I was planning to just quietly disappear and let them think what they would. The fact that they're thinking I'm dead is just a plus. Is that all?"

"One more question. Who's your husband, and what name are you going by now?"

"That's two questions," she replied, smarmy, but answered when she felt the weight of the stares from both the captain and ship. "My husband is Cale Leyner. I'm Carmen Leyner."

"Matching initials," he grinned cheerfully, ignoring her glare. "That's all I need to know. If I think of something, I'll call you back."

Carmen grimaced, "Thanks," before leaving- quickly.

Dylan watched her out, then said, "Andromeda, tell Rommie that she needs to get in here."

This was not going to be fun.

* * *

Rommie arrived expeditiously, not letting him get a word out before she started. "You talked to her and she wants Ash, right?"

"Rommie..."

"Dylan." Her tone was severe.

He sighed. "Yes, she wants him back."

Rommie bit her lip. She had hoped she was wrong, but now that she knew she wasn't, she wasn't quite sure how to go about dealing with it. "So what do we do now?"

"Now I find out more about her, and you worry about Asher." He leaned forward on the desk, scanning her features, tense with nervousness. "Relax. We'll find out something. There's a pretty good chance we can put her off on a detail. In the meantime, humor her, since I'm not quite sure what kind of a force we may be dealing with at the moment." He took a deep breath, knowing she wouldn't like his next suggestion. _He_ didn't like his next suggestion. "Introduce them. Maybe that can tell us something."

"What?"

"See how well they interact. If he starts screaming and running away, then that's one more black mark against her." He let his lips quirk up a little, in a display of humor he didn't feel. "Just try it. Please?"

"All right. But try to find something that means she can't have him."

She turned to the door, and was halfway there when she heard him say softly, "I will."

* * *

Andromeda watched silently as Dylan toyed helplessly with an icon on his desk- a small plaque that he had been presented with in the first year of his captaincy. It was a recognition of his skillful handling of a situation with one of the few Commonwealth dissenters then that had nearly been fatal for a hundred thousand colonists. They had been threatening to release a biotoxin on the population at large, but hed managed to use negotiation and assault teams to stall the group enough to spare the colonists an unpleasant fate. Now she could almost read his mind as he twirled the small square around his fingers.

Finally, he said, "How did I help them, Andromeda?"

"You used strategic warfare and negotiation tactics as you were taught in the Academy," she answered factually, knowing he didn't want that as an answer.

"But if I'd been able to act faster, I might have spared the people they used as examples. If I'd ignored my orders, gotten there sooner..."

"The inhabitants of New Barbados might have been destroyed because you didn't repel the attack _there_ first."

He ceased speaking for a moment, thinking. He knew that she was right, but he didn't like seeing even those few dying. "How did I help those two planets, millions of people, almost without breaking a sweat, and I can't even help Rommie? She's one of my closest friends, and trusted advisors. She's your avatar! She's taken care of Asher since he was a baby..." His voice slowly faded away as he rubbed at his temples. "Why can't I just do something simple?"

Andromeda stood by his desk, not saying a word. She didn't approve of her avatar taking care of a child- she knew she and Dylan shared that opinion- but like him, she didn't want her avatar hurt. Every emotion the other felt echoed through the link they shared. Even with the impact reduced, the pain Rommie was feeling was intense.

"Isn't there some old Earth story about something like this?" Dylan asked finally.

She checked her memory banks. "The Earth Bible. Book First Kings, Chapter three, verses sixteen through twenty-eight. Shall I read them?"

"No. But refresh my memory."

"King Solomon was confronted by two women, each claiming that a certain child was theirs. One woman's baby had died in the night, and theoretically she exchanged children with the other. Since they couldn't settle it, he gave orders for the child to be cut in half, and one half given to each woman. The woman who protested and said to give the baby to the other woman, not kill it, was deemed the correct mother and the uninjured child was restored to her care." She finished the summarization and stood waiting.

He chuckled dryly. "I suppose I can't give orders to hang Asher out an airlock, or to have Trance bisect him." He sat up straight now. "I just don't know. I'm going to have to check with Beka or Tyr tomorrow, and see if they've ever heard of a Cale Leyner. It sounds familiar, but I'm not sure where it's from. I hope I won't have to revert to what he did."

Dylan knew, really, that if he wanted to get Asher off the ship all he had to do was decide that Carmen should take him back. At the same time, though, he was sure that would be the wrong idea. He may have wanted him off, but he was sure by now that that would only happen if Rommie went with him, and he didn't want to lose Rommie. He could send him back to Carmen, but that wasn't a good idea; he'd finally been convinced that that was a bad idea when she showed up after a year of being dead.

* * *

Rommie sat in her quarters later. Asher had gone to bed a few hours before, leaving her alone for the night. She wanted to talk to someone, but everyone else was either in bed or on duty.

She was disappointed in Dylan at the moment. He had no reason to entertain that woman aboard, less to even play with the idea of giving her Asher. She had always known, of course, that he didn't want him onboard, but giving him to Carmen was just wrong. If anyone deserved him less, she did. She had abandoned him, not even telling anyone, just leaving him in her quarters not caring whether he would even be found. Even now it still drove Rommie crazy. She just hoped Dylan would live up to his word.

After what Dylan had said earlier, she'd sent a short, tersely worded message to Carmen requesting her presence the next day. She still hadn't faced her though.

The one thing she wanted least to do right now was see Carmen meet Asher. It was bad enough that Carmen wanted to take him away from _Andromeda_, from _her_, but seeing them together would kill her.

She loved him, massively so. She loved his laugh, his games, even when he cried. Ever since he was born, she'd gotten used to putting him to bed, waking him up if she had to, feeding him, and playing with him. She was sure that her arms would literally feel empty, she was so used to carrying his weight. She liked taking care of him. She didn't want to think about what would happen if she had to give him up; she'd been avoiding the thought since Dylan had transferred him into her care, and even now she didn't want to face the possibility.

Her train of thought was derailed abruptly with the advent of the child himself. She hadn't noticed any change on the vid feed, but then, she hadn't been watching. Now he was standing at the door to the room, looking like a perfect picture of a toddler: slightly chubby, with reddened cheeks and sleep-heavy eyes. His dark hair was tousled, standing straight up in one or two places, and he was clutching Blob as he wailed, "Rommie!"

She went over to him. "What's wrong, Ash?"

"Up!" After she had picked him up, he redoubled his wailing. It was fairly sleepy wailing, though, so if nothing was wrong he would pass out fairly quickly once she calmed him down.

"What's wrong? Did you wake up and get scared?" He nodded, burying his face in her neck. It was a fairly stock occurrence every couple of weeks, so she just did the usual routine, pacing the room and crooning one of the songs he liked best. "'Tell me why you are crying, my son. Is there a secret you can't tell anyone?'"

His sobs were already quieting, and she continued, turning to his room. "'Is it the thunder in the distance you hear? Will it help if I stay very near?'" He was drowsing now, and she had reached his bed. She tucked him in as she softly sang the last line of the verse. "'I am here.'"

When the door chime sounded, Rommie actually jumped. It was silly- she _was_ expecting Carmen about then- but she gulped, glancing reflexively at Asher. He was playing with some model of _Andromeda_ Harper had made up for him, blissfully unaware that this wasn't just some visitor they had to be nice to. Since extending the offer for Carmen to meet him- or get reacquainted with him, depending on how you viewed it- her every nerve had been on edge. So far, she'd started doing nervous tidying twice, considered changing clothes five times, and started doing pointless work three times. She was seriously twitchy about this.

The door slid open to admit Carmen, wearing skintight, shiny pants, some sort of synthetic and pricey, too, and a thin sweater that revealed more than it covered. "Where is he?" she said, bluntly and without fanfare.

"In here." If looks could kill, Carmen would be long dead, burnt to a crisp, with the glare Rommie was sending her. She crouched down next to Asher. "Ash." No answer- he was too intent on wrapping Blob into a bundle around the model. "Ash, I want you to meet somebody." This time he actually looked back up at her, his attention caught. She picked him up, turning to face Carmen, still lurking by the door. "Ash, this is Carmen. Carmen, Asher Darrell."

She looked at him coolly, sizing him up and making no attempt to take him. It hadn't been lost on her that Rommie had used his full name in the introduction. "Hi."

"Hi!" He beamed, holding out his arms. "Up?"

Rommie would have sworn she felt whatever circuits pass for a heart snap. For once she wished he wasn't so friendly. She barely prevented herself from smirking, though, when the other woman took him with the air of handling something toxic.

"Blob?" he added; Carmen had no idea what he was talking about, but Rommie retrieved the toy.

"Here you go. You're welcome." He grinned at her, showing off the dimple before focusing on Blob.

* * *

Dylan had called Beka and Tyr up to his office, as promised, to ask them. Beka arrived first. "What's up?"

"I'm trying to find something. Does the name Cale Leyner mean anything to you?" He shut off his computer before standing and turning his full attention to Beka.

She frowned. "I've heard it, but I can't remember where. Did you check with Andromeda?"

"Not yet. She couldn't find anything either."

Tyr arrived as he finished the sentence. "What do you need us here for?"

"I already told Beka. Do you know anything about a Cale Leyner?"

At that moment, Beka's eyes widened, and she let out what could best be classified as a squeak.

"What?" Tyr asked.

"What?" Dylan exclaimed.

"Cale Leyner! Dylan, did you read those files on Markio?"

"I looked over them, why?" Dylan was genuinely puzzled. What did Markio have to do with Carmen's husband?

Tyr, on the other hand, was getting an idea. "You mean..."

* * *

As Asher clutched the toy, Carmen regarded him with scientific curiosity and tried to keep him as far away from her body as possible. Finally, she looked up at Rommie and asked, "Did you pick the name?"

"Yes."

"Does it mean anything?"

If she'd had her druthers, she would have bitten her tongue. Telling her the meaning could be awkward. "He needed to be called something, and you didn't see fit to give him a name, so I chose his first and middle names. Asher means happy."

"And Darrell?"

"Beloved."

The silence that followed that statement was mildly intimidating. It stretched for several minutes, until Asher broke it, demanding to be put down. That was one that Carmen understood, and within seconds he was down with the model. The woman stared at Rommie, whose gaze was switching between Asher and the lazily scrolling computer screen on the desk. "It means beloved. You knew that when you named him?"

"Yes. I thought he needed something that made it sound like someone cared, at least." She _really_ could have bitten her tongue. That had been sound reasoning when he was a baby that had been left behind when his mother took off, but now- when he had her and an entire ship's worth of crew besides- it sounded a little silly. Probably not to Carmen, though.

Luck happened to be with her. Dylan came on over the comm system right then. "Rommie, Carmen, my office, now."


	14. Endgame

Author's Note: Here it is, guys. The final frontier- er, chapter. Sorry, wrong fandom.

A quick line here- I'm grateful to John, who beta-read this, pointed out an awful lot of niggling details, and gave me the occasional ego-boost or chewing-out over this, whichever I needed. Everyone else: you've all been wonderful readers and reviewers. Thanks for reviewing Chapter 13 go to darkshadow-23, Makura Koneko, Yullia, and Writer2Bpoet- I enjoyed some of the comments immensely. Thank you- all of you- for a great time- and I hope to see you back for my next fanfic!

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The Child

Chapter Fourteen: Endgame

By B.L.A. the Mouse

Asher was sulking as they arrived in Dylan's office; he hadn't liked being pulled away from his game. He cheered up considerably, though, when Tyr took him from Rommie and started playing with him like only he did, tossing him into the air and the like. Now the boy was perched on the Nietzschean's shoulders, using his hair to stay on, although Rommie noticed that Tyr was holding onto his legs with an iron grip.

Beka and Dylan were muttering to each other in low tones by the desk, looking up when Rommie came over to join them. Tyr had backed off somewhat, keeping Asher away from the focus of the attention, namely Carmen, who stood off to the side, conspicuously alone.

"Okay," Dylan started, straightening and facing everyone else. "I was talking to Carmen yesterday, and she gave me a name. I was a little curious, so I did a little checking regarding that name." He started to walk- slowly, staying by the desk, but intimidating.

Carmen felt cold trickling down her spine as she swallowed nervously. The only one in the room who didn't have an idea of what was approaching was Rommie, who looked at her captain. His way of delivering the news was making her curious, and a good deal agitated, especially as she noticed Beka move her hand just a little bit closer to her forcelance like she was expecting something to happen.

"Since I couldn't find anything in Andromeda's database, I asked Beka and Tyr, since I thought they might be the ones most likely to know of any particularly notorious names recently. They told me something interesting." He moved just a little bit closer to Carmen, now only a couple of feet away. She was completely on edge now, every muscle whipcord-tense, wondering precisely how much they really knew.

Tyr had taken care to be well away from the unfolding scene as soon as he picked up Asher; he had no intention of being the ship's whipping boy if the child was hurt. Now he watched the others closely, trusting that Beka would be able to react fast enough if anything should happen. He was certain that something would- he could smell the sick stench of Carmen's fear and desperation, and see her muscles twitch in her limbs and face.

Dylan closed in for the kill. "Does the name Jasper Markio mean anything to you?"

Carmen turned her head to face him. She didn't answer yes or no, as her mouth was dry and the words wouldn't come.

"I think it does," he continued mercilessly, "I think you know the exact connection between Jasper Markio and Cale Leyner. And I think that you are aiding and abetting him by not telling us." He paused, gauging the rage burning in her eyes. "Congratulations, Carmen. Your husband's a crimelord, and you are arrested for criminal conspiracy."

She lost it. She shrieked, feral, and lunged. Nails turned to claws in anger, but Dylan managed to hold her off long enough for Beka to send a pulse of energy directly into her back.

They stood in a circle over the fallen woman, her red hair spread out around her face in a perverse halo. Nobody spoke for a long moment until Asher asked softly, "Dylan?" He touched his cheek as he stared at the captain.

Dylan brushed a finger over the same spot on his own face; it came away bloody. Carmen had gotten in a lucky swipe. "It's just a cut, Asher, I'm fine."

Tyr passed the boy back over to Rommie, who took him gratefully. He proceeded to immediately wrap every limb he had around her, not mitigated by the fact that she was hugging him just as tightly. "What?" he said, muffling his voice against her shoulder and pointing to Carmen.

"Oh boy," Beka muttered. She did not envy Rommie explaining that one. Instead, she turned her attention to the prone figure still on the floor in front of them. "So what are we going to do about her? V-deck?"

Joining her, Dylan answered, "We may as well. It'll hold her until we can rendezvous with a detention ship. I already contacted Commonwealth authorities, and they'll pick up Markio before he thinks anything's wrong."

Between the two of them, Beka and Tyr supported the unconscious woman and half-dragged her out the door. Dylan supervised the operation, but kept half an ear cocked to the explanations going on in the corner.

Rommie was valiantly trying to break down what had happened, but it wasn't easy. "See, Carmen was..."

"Bad?" he suggested as she paused.

"Well, yes, that works." Since it was a fairly succinct way of terming it, she decided to roll with it. "When you do something bad, you're not allowed to do anything but sit for a minute. Carmen did something very bad, so Beka shocked her and made her go to sleep so she won't hurt anybody. When she wakes up, she'll be told what she has to do to make up for it." She stopped, looking at his eyes, large and a little confused. "Do you understand this?"

"Yes." In all honesty, she and Dylan both thought he looked bewildered, but weren't going to press the point.

At that juncture, Dylan came over and joined the two of them. "Everything all right?"

"We're fine," Rommie assured him, "right?"

Asher nodded solemnly.

"We're fine," she repeated, smiling a little.

Dylan smiled. "Good." He looked between them a moment longer as she checked the smudge already on Asher's pants and fussed over it for a second, getting a quick grin out of him. He didn't have any time anymore for being with the crew, but once- in a very great while, when he wasn't worried about procedures- he enjoyed seeing the two of them together. He still had his doubts, like in the beginning, but now he got encouragement from seeing them together. "Why don't you go... get him away from this? It can hardly be a good thing. I'll let you know if anything happens."

"All right." She noted that he was smiling at them- rare, but she liked it when he unfroze enough to do that. "Ash, you want to go back to playing?"

"Yes!" he shouted, starting to bounce in her arms.

* * *

Carmen sat brooding in the small cell on V-deck. She had a headache from when she'd hit the floor after being knocked out. One of the security officers had come in just a few moments ago and announced that Jasper was being arrested.

All her plans were going to hell in a handbasket. All she had wanted to do was pick up the kid and go back to where she and Jasper were staying, at least for the moment. She'd scoped it out on Poetry and expected it to be easy; instead, they'd unknowingly been under surveillance for weeks. For a change she'd told someone the truth, or almost all of it anyway, and been arrested for her pains. Carmen glanced up and saw the current guard staring at her like he was expecting her to do tricks and snarled at him before looking back away.

Up in his office, Dylan briefed Harper and Trance on what happened, noting that Harper wholeheartedly approved of the idea of Carmen going away for a long while, while Trance smiled, telling no one that she was only glad that a few more pieces of the future had fallen into place. At the same time, Beka sat on the _Maru_, putting together her part of the formal Commonwealth report as per official formula. In his quarters, Tyr was finishing unpacking, pulling a small photograph out of his bag; he looked solemnly at the child depicted there and carefully stored it where the ship couldn't find it from a casual scan. He kept the picture of his son close by, even though he did treat Asher as he would Tamerlane- while he was on the ship, at least.

In the VIP quarters, Rommie read out of one of Asher's books to him. He was drowsing in her arms, finally falling asleep on the last few pages. It was past time for his nap, and the tumultuous day hadn't helped.

She carried him back and tucked him into his bed, watching him sleep for a moment. She loved doing that, seeing his eyelids twitching as he dreamed.

Too soon, she turned to leave, stopping only to lightly kiss his forehead. As she left, she hummed a familiar tune, letting her mouth shape the words as she passed out of Ashers hearing range. "'I got you, babe...'"

It was just another overall normal day for _Andromeda_ and her crew.

****

The End


End file.
